#i also liked taylor swift a lot when i was in elementary school so i know her early albums really well &they have a nostalgia factor for me

[autisticempathydaemon]

Hello! I hope you’re doing well! This is for your redacted match-up game since I thought it looked fun to do :)

(I also wanted to mention that it’s really fun seeing what songs you pick for the match-ups and has introduced me to some new favorites)(No pressure to do this quickly ofc <3)

What song are you fixated on at the moment? What lyric or verse, and why? A totally basic song, but I’ve resparked my obsession with Taylor Swift’s song “Wildest Dreams”. I love the lyrics “Staring at the sunset, babe / Red lips and rosy cheeks / Say you'll see me again / Even if it's just in your wildest dreams”. The whole song is very, like, yearning and honestly does remind me of a vibrant sunset just before it softens into a pink and yellow glow. And I like the “wildest dreams” lyric because I daydream a lot. Not to mention, I enjoy the music video for it.

What is your Enneagram type? Type 9w1

Do you love gargantuan Youtube video essays, and if so, which is your favorite and why? I like watching long videos in general. Sometimes it’s just gameplay, sometimes it’s social commentary, sometimes it’s ghost hunting videos, sometimes it’s something that randomly popped up in my for you page and looked interesting. The most recent one I watched was “Exploring the Secret Lesbian World of Interwar Paris” by Kaz Rowe.

Tell me about your childhood imaginary friend. I didn’t really have one, but I pretended to have an imaginary “boyfriend”. People at my elementary school were obsessed with dating for some reason even though we were, like, 8 and so that’s the main reason why I said it was a bf. (It’s also funny bcuz now I’m listening to imaginary boyfriends).

What is your go-to way to fall asleep? If I’m too awake from an exciting/busy day I’ll watch youtube videos to calm down. I sleep with my childhood stuffed animal. I feel bad if I don’t and hugging it makes me feel better. I also usually sleep with a night light because I hate not being able to see things if I wake up in the middle of the night. 

If you had to change your name, what would it be, and why? (In tandem, if you have changed your name, why did you pick that one?) Well, I like the name “Meri”. But if I actually had to change my name, I’d probably just switch my middle name and first name with each other, since I like them well enough.

What is your favorite of Redacted’s audios, and why? I really like David’s “Watching a Scary Movie With Your Alpha Werewolf” audio. I love his laughs so much (I could  s q u e a l  into a pillow)! It’s also really calming in the sense that it’s relaxing in a fun way (just chilling and watching a movie), so I go back to it a lot.

What Redacted boy holds no appeal to you, and why? Like, not the one you hate but the one who you don’t get the hype for. (I won’t judge, I promise.) Ollie. He’s really sweet and I don’t hate him at all, but I can only watch two of his audios in a row before wanting to change to something else. 

Tell me about that one book/movie/tv show you know all the words to. Oh! I have one for each of these: If it’s a book, then “The Princess and the Fangirl” by Ashley Poston. If it’s a TV show, then “Gravity Falls” (I watch it as a summer solstice tradition). And if it’s a movie, then “Miss Congeniality (2000)” (I love those 90s/2000s romance and comedy movies). 

Which Redacted boy are you platonically attracted to? Like- forget dating, which dude do you want to be your best friend? I totally get the romantic appeal of Sam, but I would like him as a friend because he’s very down-to-earth, caring and I like his vibes. (I'd also include Caelum, I DON'T want to date him at all, but he's a cute little guy that makes me smile a lot).

Do you have a go-to thing you ramble about when you’re tired, and if so, what is it? (For example, my boyfriend knows I’m ready to sleep when I start talking about space.) I don’t think I ramble about anything. I’m pretty quiet when I’m tired. Although, sometimes I do get “slap happy” and find a lot of things hilarious before I eventually get to the exhausted point of ‘no-talking’.

Tell me your go-to gas station and drink combo. KitKats and Coca-Cola (slushie or the actual drink)!!

Tell me about your favorite playlist at the moment. One of my private playlists that’s a mix of 2010s EDM and pop, 90s and 2000s rock, alternative music and country songs.

What’s your guilty pleasure media, and why? Listening to Redacted Audio is the biggest, and also reading/writing fanfiction. It’s embarrassing to talk to any of my IRL friends or family about it even though I’m fully supportive and excited about discussing all of those things, it's just the weird reputation it carries.

And whatever else you think tells me about who you are! I’m introverted. I have two cats! (I didn't realize how many cat lovers were in this fandom). I believe that I’m biromantic and demisexual. Some things I like to do are: write, read, go camping with friends (I love hanging out, playing card games, swimming and eating campfire food), doing karaoke, and playing dress up in costumes/outfits I’ve collected over the years. Sometimes I’ll draw or paint but not as often. I often have dance parties or a good cry to de-stress (which are like two different vibes XD but it works). The video games I like to play are Minecraft, Stardew Valley, and The Sims. I like to take quizzes. I used to take Buzzfeed and Quotev quizzes a lot when I was younger, but now I mostly go on uquiz. (I like pressing buttons).

I also really like paleontology. I can watch ghost hunting videos (as stated before) BUT I cannot do horror movies. I’m assuming it’s because I get too involved with the movie, and ghost hunting does not have as high of stakes. I guess I would describe myself as someone that is pretty quiet until you get to know me. I tend to be very watchful and cautious when I’m out in public with friends or family (which probably comes from my ‘older sibling need’ to make sure that the younger ones don’t get kidnapped or hurt). I count myself as an early bird, since I wake up around 6-7am most days. My style is pretty casual, maybe sometimes dark academia inspired if I’m feeling stylish. And my main love languages are quality time and words of affirmation. (I hope all of that helps!)

Your entry gave me so much trouble in the most delightful way. You paint me a picture of someone so easy to get along with that it was hard for me to pick one redacted suitor over the other. In the end, looking at the charming ways you’d contrast one another, I like Asher for you best.

You’re a cat person; he’s a literal dog person. You’re an introvert; he’s an extrovert. You’re an older sibling, he’s a younger sibling. You’re a morning person; he’s sleeping in till noon if you let him. You’re a cozy gamer; he’s an FPS, COD kind of guy. Yet, you two get along so well. Type Nines are characterized by a desire for peace and quiet, typical of an older sibling, and Asher as the emotionally intelligent beta of the Shaw Pack would be able to provide that. One thing that particularly convinced me was your love languages in that Asher strikes me as one of the most verbally affectionate and forthcoming of the redacted men and would be best suited for your love of words of affirmation.

That’s not to say he doesn’t indulge your need for quality time either; he’s perfect for that. Asher loves your cats, and they love him (once they get used to his shifted form). He orders pizza and wings for your romcom movie nights, most of which he hasn’t seen yet but is super happy to watch them for the first time with you. He’s always down for a good karaoke sess, whether you asked for one or not. He picks up and gets good at Stardew Valley immediately, especially when he finds out y’all can work on the same farm and that he can craft you a wedding ring. (That is, when he’s not trying to get himself an NPC husband. He is down bad for all those men, but he has a soft spot for Shane, can’t tell you why.)

Song:

We're making out inside crashed cars/ We're sleeping through all our memories/ I used to waste my time dreaming of being alive (now I only waste my time dreaming of you)/ Turn off the lights and turn off the shyness/ 'Cause all of our moves make up for the silence/ And oh, the way your makeup stains my pillowcase/ Like I'll never be the same

If you love 90’s/00’s rock and alternative, and I’ve given you Asher, could I give you anything other than a Fall Out Boy song? Obviously not, especially this era and track of Fall Out Boy. There’s something about their older songs that capture young, first love in the best, most singable way. Also, the title is a reference to the romance classic movie, Casablanca, and that coincidence really cinched my choice.

Runner-ups:

Huxley would be a gorgeous partner and runner-up for an early bird who loves camping. He’s also one of my favorite picks for someone on the ace spectrum; he just gives that vibe. (I’m also an asexual who loves Huxley, so that may be my bias coming through.) David is also a runner-up, one who almost beat out Asher except for the fact Asher would be more outwardly affectionate off the bat and would like your cats more.

Read this post and send me an ask if you’d like a match-up of your own! 💌

[yutafrita]

can u do a oneshot or drabble ?? about midnight rain or any taylor swift song w jaemin/mark

Omg thank you for this! I've been hoping to get a song related request lol. I typically don't write for Mark and I am working on a Jaemin fic, so I took this as a challenge. It's not long, but I hope you like it! Thank you so so much :,)

I decided to go with Dress if that's okay- would definitely love to do this again!

Word Count: <900

You had been best friends with Mark since you were in diapers. Your family homes were right across the street from each other, and you went from playing in sandboxes together to going to high school and university together.

“How’s work been?” You asked your best friend one day after popping into his apartment. As adults, you lived right across the hall from each other and had a key to each others apartment.

“It’s been great! Our firm was actually invited to an Attorney’s Gala,” Mark chirped. “Do you wanna come with?”

“Of course. Who else did you drag with you to all those Barrister’s Balls?” You laughed.

You had also been in love with Mark since diapers. He was always handsome, sweet, and a little oblivious- well, a lot oblivious actually.

You had asked him to be your date for the elementary school Valentine’s Day dance. He was missing his two front teeth at the time, and he smiled in reply with, “of course silly! We’re best friends!”

You had asked him to be your date for your freshman year homecoming dance, and with his teeth returned he responded with, “of course silly! We’re best friends!”

The next three homecomings you and Mark started to date people, but for your senior prom you both were single. You had asked him again, to be your date, and he sung in reply, “of course silly! We’re best friends!”

You were at your job a few days before the attorney's gala, groaning about your love life to your friend in their office.

"Have you ever told him... directly... about your feelings?" Giselle asked as she handed you some forms of hers to sign.

"I thought I was clear... like... when we went to prom I wore the perfect outfit to show off my... assets... and all but threw myself at him."

"Well, maybe you should wear a dress that still shows off your stuff, but maybe directly tell him?"

You knew she was right, you weren't dumb. You knew you were avoiding being direct because of your outright fear of rejection, but, if he had never made a move before, maybe you should just take that as a sign of itself?

You were glaring at yourself in your living room mirror. You had thrifted a beautiful dress that you had given a bit of extra love and care to- a sage, bell sleeved floor length dress with a deep V neck cut and shimmering tulle that split into a flattering slit. You felt beautiful, and it fit you exactly how you wanted it to. Yet, you didn't feel your best.

Mark was going to the gala directly after work, so you met him in front of the hotel that evening.

His eyes were wide and whistled when he saw you, "wow, don't ditch me for some guy now!"

You forced a smile, entering the gala and meeting a few of his coworkers, all the while introducing yourself as his best friend. You had downed about three glasses of wine when Mark asked you to dance, and with a raised eyebrow you agreed.

"You really look great," he complimented, having to nearly shout the compliment into your ear over the blaring orchestral band.

"You look pretty great too," you complimented in return. The suit he wore was a deep green, and felt so soft against your skin as you clumsily twirled on the dance floor. Mark was always handsome, but this night in particular had his eyes set in a soft brown hue under the chandelier lighting that made him look godly.

You loved him. It hurt.

"Not as good as you."

The three glasses of wine made you bold, and his repetition in awe of you emboldened you even more. You were tired of the pining and the ache in your chest. So, leaned closer to his ears, and whispered so only he could hear, "you should see how I look without it."

You disinflated when you pulled back, Mark's expression completely blank except for his eyes being the widest you've ever seen him. Your mouth hung open, and you prepared to immediately take it back, make a joke and hope he can forget about it.

"Word?" he asked, giggling like a high schooler. You froze, stopping in your dance to burst out laughing, the two of you earning confused looks from Mark's peers until you scooted off the dance floor, still clutching your stomachs.

"So, is that offer still up?" he asked once you calmed down, the full weight of your words finally sitting your shoulders.

"Hmmm, I'm not sure that's something to do with your best friend," you taunted, taking a sip from a glass of champagne you swiped. Quickly, and without warning, Mark's hands caught both of your cheeks squeezing your face lovingly.

"Silly- there's no one else I'd rather do... anything with."

Permatag! @nini0620

[lovearah]

I honestly believe in chasing the dreams of my younger self, for they hold the purest vision of who am I truly and who am I meant to become.

I started to love makeup when I was four. My parents do not know why, because no one else loves them as much as me. They didn't know anyone who could've taught me. My dad used to bring home a lot of makeup palettes he bought and I'll spend my day just sitting in front of the mirror, putting tons of colorful eyeshadows on my eyelids. I know it's not perfect, but I was having a lot of fun doing this most of my days.

Then, if I got bored of it, I'd break it into powder and use it to color my coloring books. Sometimes for pretend cooking, but most of the times, for art. Whenever we're outside, I'd only ask for either of two things:

Watercolors, or a colorful eyeshadow palette.

Those palettes with hues of blue, silver and purple. I never used them on my face again.

I love the idea of creating art, it makes me feel happy and calm. I express my feelings using art especially whenever I feel inspired.

I think my junior high school self loved makeup the most. I started putting on makeup in 7th grade. I had a lot of awkward cosmetic phases, but I still love every bit of it because it answers the question 'why?' am I good at it today.

She loves makeup so much it was her dream, her world.

She used to dream about being a makeup artist. But, deep inside, she knew it wasn't going to be permanent.

She loved teaching more.

Fate decided that she'll love the passion of her estranged father.

He's still within the family, but they're not closer than the little me did. She was a daddy's girl. Not until a lot of things happened and tore their closeness apart.

I realized I had a passion in teaching in elementary school. Teachers used to compliment on how I handle the class well and appoint me as a student teacher.

It snapped on me on a random rainy day in 4th grade. I was teaching a same grade class, and saw the look on their faces. Some of them were amazed about the topic, and something ignited inside me because I saw their eagerness to learn something new.

I still taught classes in high school, usually in English classes. Even handled a SpEd class once and enjoyed it. Even learned to do the ASL alphabet so I could talk to them letter-by-letter.

I used to question why I did that, but all I know is one thing:

I have a heart for students, and I am eager to be the teacher I needed when I was a student.

All of it makes sense now. All of my past experiences fit like puzzle pieces on what's happening in my life today.

I am in second year college now. Nineteen, still kicking.

My course?

Bachelor of Secondary Education, Major in English Language and Literature.

My hobbies?

I love painting so much my arts were kept by the art teacher I had in my freshman year. Also graded as one of the highest in my class.

How about the makeup journey?

I started doing makeup as a sideline in junior high school. I still do now. There's people that recommend me to people they knew, and it is growing.

This year, I started affiliating and my UGC journey because I wanted to explore on how far this younger self dreams take me.

If you're lost in life, just ask your younger self.

They might know more about yourself than you do now.

[whatever-color-of-the-rainbow]

kate dalton headcanons? i love the nickname of cheese for chess!!

YIPPEE

They’re genderfluid and use they/them pronouns like 80% of the time, but they’re closeted about it

Can’t focus on anything they’re doing unless they’re listening to music

Will stay up until 3AM reading

They have autism and ADHD

On that note, their autism-dar is amazing. Out of the teammates, they’ve managed to clock Farrah, Annleigh, Mattie, and Eva so far.

Their top 3 Taylor Swift albums are Red, TTPD, and evermore

They and Chess would braid each other’s hair sometimes

Once they start talking, it’s not easy to get them to stop. Specifically when they’re either really passionate or really angry about something.

After Chess died, Kate started wearing her clothes. You know the hoodie they wear in Act 2? That was Chess’s favorite hoodie. And the beanie also belonged to her.

They like bowling, and they’re pretty good at it. They’re not as good as Reese, though. They go bowling together once a month.

As much as they love gymnastics, they absolutely hate gymnastics meets because they’re overstimulating.

AJR’s biggest fan (favorite albums are The Maybe Man and The Click)

Also Melissa Etheridge’s biggest fan because they’re both alto rockstar lesbians (favorite album is self-titled)

Super photogenic. Like, Eva will randomly take a candid picture of them and they’ll look gorgeous every single time.

Actually super sweet when they’re with those they care about (Chess, Reese, Eva, etc.). The only time they’re really a bitch is when the other person is being a bitch first.

After junior year, they quit cheerleading and go back to gymnastics

They have flannels in every imaginable color

They really like Halloween

On that note, they and Eva like doing matching couples’ costumes. So far their favorite was Gomez (Eva) and Morticia (Kate), with Tori (Kate) and Michael (Eva) from Solitaire as a close second.

A massive fan of silent reading time in elementary school

Their favorite color is green

They like making friendship bracelets

They took piano lessons throughout elementary school, but quit once they started getting serious about gymnastics and stopped having time for anything else. But they never got rid of the piano in their house, and they’re still pretty good. Sometimes they’ll play while Eva plays guitar.

Very protective of Mattie after the whole prison thing

Cat person

They avoid drugs and alcohol like the damn plague, especially after the murders. There’s just a lot of bad memories associated with it and Kate knows what a dark path Chess and Farrah went down.

They use humor and sarcasm to cope with trauma

They have two older sisters

And after said sisters left for college, Kate laid on their bedroom floor listening to “Come Back…Be Here” by Taylor Swift on repeat far more often than they care to admit.

They have a playlist for just about every occasion

Had a marriage pact with Chess. If they were both single by 30, they’d get married for convenience and have a cat named Monopoly.

They listen to “Let The Games Begin” by AJR before games and pep rallies because it’s a super high-energy song and hypes them up enough to be able to pretend they want to be there

It’s become a running joke that Kate borrowed their wardrobe from a ‘90s skater boy

Watched 10 Things I Hate About You one too many times growing up, and Kat Stratford became her role model. Which explains a lot.

Expanding on that last one, Kate was really excited for the Shakespeare unit in 10th grade English class because they were reading Taming of the Shrew, which inspired that movie. To say that they were pissed off once they actually started reading would be an understatement. Now they’re a Shakespeare hater.

Their favorite gymnastics event is floor

Eva fell first, Kate fell harder

They have a quality time love language

Solid A-B student

Meg from Hercules was their first fictional crush. Again, explains a lot.

Yesterday, Melissa Etheridge posted a video of herself singing Red Wine Supernova x I Want To Come Over. If Kate were to see this, they would lose their shit.

Sorry this took so long. I have a lot of headcanons and wanted to make sure I got at least most of them in there. Also most of these are projection.

[banguette]

Remember Me Once More | Ted Shackleford (The Man in The Yellow Hat) x f. Reader

description: He stayed. You left. 6 years after your last meeting, a game of circumstance lands you in the same room as him - and his monkey. With 2 weeks of working in close proximity, things are bound to come to light. The question is, how will he perceive it?

word count: 14.7k

warnings: they are both idiots!!! who are in love!!! angsty feelings, cursing a lot of talk of canada and the us as well as culinary schools (i did my research but i'm not from either of those places so pls forgive me if some things are wrong), some words are in italian because the pisghettis, awkward conversations, ted is a nerdy dilfy hotshot museum director, reader is a chef, sex fantasies (a LOT of them), they get trapped in a room, many many apologies, flashbacks to college, it's never explained but ted calls oc chowder, oc has two moms because we love diversity, brief mention of 'the office' and julius the monkey, sweet confessions, SO MUCH KISSING!!, cheesy lines are exchanged, boners, ted has a big virgin dick, experienced reader, oral sex (male and female recieving), a bit of a hair kink, clit play, ted is a bit too excited sometimes, bickering like they're an old married couple, reader has an iud, unprotected sex (do not try!! i repeat, do not try!!), several orgasms, creampies (yes, creampieS), missionary, riding, they act like horny teenagers, ted's butt deserves its own warning so here it is, brief mentions of bath sex, old wounds finally heal, the three of them are basically a family, public speaking, y/n is a bit unhinged, more sweet confessions, allusions to exhibition (pls keep in mind this is my first smut fic, be kind!!)

cover by: me (illustrations featured belong to their rightful owners)

note: I do not regret this book nor do I condone it. Fueled by Ted TikToks, inspired by 'Maroon' by Taylor Swift and 'Don’t You Remember?' by Adele.

Ted Shackleford was not a malevolent person.

Ask anyone and everyone who knew him; he was the last person to hold a grudge against anyone. His monkey had flooded his apartment - thrice! But his response every time he discovered George scratching his head uncomfortably and awkwardly giggling amid the soapy bubbles and rubber duckies surrounding him was to just sigh before proceeding to clean the place.

But you? You were a different story. Every time he recalls the blurry memory of you walking away from him - the last time he ever saw you - he only vividly remembers the anger bubbling up inside his chest. He only remembers the deep frown etched on his face, and the furrowing of his eyebrows as he dug his nails into his palm. Was it selfish to only recall what he felt at that moment, rather than the sight of you hurriedly making your way to your plane without sparing him another glance? To look back on perhaps the most significant turning point in his life and only focus on his emotions rather than figuring out why you left in the first place?

He didn't know. And, to be quite frank, a part of him doesn't care. Altruism was his one principle in life and constantly bent over backward 24/7 to make everyone happy; surely he could afford to be unkind in this one avenue.

But...

Some nights - including tonight - he thinks of the other memories you shared. That elementary school Halloween party, where you warned him that he was going to get teased relentlessly for dressing up as Percy Shelley (whom he was weirdly obsessed with back then), but come the day you surprised everyone by strolling in as Mary - Frankenstein plush and all in your hand. Yeah, you both still got ridiculed by all the Scooby-Doos and Rugrats in your class, but no bullying could have deterred the warmth he felt inside when you leaned over and whispered, "It's either both of us or none of us."

There was also that day in freshman year when you guys cycled through town, the sun setting behind you as you rushed home to make it in time for curfew. How you'd tripped over a train track and he'd tried his best to clean and dress the small gash on your knee, and how you looked at him as if he'd hung up the stars in the sky to accompany the moon when he matched his pace to yours and made it home extremely late. He'd gotten scolded, but it didn't matter. Not as long as you were safe. Besides, all was forgiven when you presented him with a history book in addition to his favorite cookies over a week later. The book inspired him to pursue history and eventually landed him a career as a museum director at the Met. Without you, he doesn't know how he wouldn't have gotten here.

It's that exact realization, however, that causes him to shift to his side on the bed and shake off all thoughts of you. He was approaching 30, for god's sake, and had a life to think about now rather than you; the one that got away. He lists them all in his head: a rambunctious monkey not even the age of 3, the meeting he has tomorrow for his new gallery opening, his friends... If it meant that, to focus, he had to drown out his thoughts (and the feeling of your soft lips pressing against his that one time) to the sound of George peacefully snoring in the room beside him, then so be it.

You had to remain in the past because Ted doesn't have space for you in his future.

The last thing you want to be confronted with after your tedious 6-hour flight to New York City is bitter coffee, but of course, that is what you get. The minute the foul-tasting liquid grazes your taste buds you spit it out onto the pavement, where the crowds don't even bother reacting to your gross public act of self-humiliation. It is at that moment when you truly feel like you are in New York, never mind the countless welcoming posters you'd seen passing through the airport. Being back in America after half a dozen years abroad felt dizzying - like something you'd spent so long carrying with you around British Columbia had finally lifted itself from your shoulders when you landed. You finally felt at home.

That being said, you weren't here for good just yet. Everything that you owned was still tied up in your apartment back in Vancouver, it depended on the outcome of your upcoming interview on whether or not you'd be moving here permanently. In the meantime, you'd spend the next few days here exploring the Apple; it's unlikely, but perhaps you could secure some last-minute Broadway tickets, or take a gander through the Central Park Zoo, or maybe even go to the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

Right now though, the coffee had done nothing and you were more focused on getting to your hotel and crashing into the comfortable bed. Jetlag was a bitch, but it was one you were willing to give into.

After checking in, the concierge handed you a bunch of pamphlets on things to do while you're in New York before smiling and sending you on your way. Leaning against the elevator wall, luggage in tow, you flipped through them. You stop at the Met's in particular; despite being a culinary student, a dear old friend had gotten you somewhat interested in history and museums have kind of drawn you in since. You unfolded the paper, glazing your tired eyes over the words, briefly looking over the pictures.

Until you spot a familiar face staring back at you.

In your confusion, you bring the paper closer to your face. Surely it couldn't be - oh my god, it is. Your 'dear old friend' was right there on the paper, smiling and beckoning you to visit with a small monkey on his shoulder. Right as the elevator pinged, you folded the paper and removed the picture from your sight. Slight change of plans, you thought internally as you walked towards your hotel room. Maybe you wouldn't be visiting the Met after all.

"George! I'm home!" Ted yelled, walking inside and setting his keys into the designated bowl, and hanging his hat up on the hook. The day had been grueling, some cuddles with his favorite non-human in the world were all he was looking forward to. George was equally as excited to catch the man in the yellow hat up on his day; he'd spent his time playing with Hundley and one of the things they did together was making a mess in George's bedroom. Ted groaned, muttered 'I'll clean this up later,' under his breath before scooping the primate up in his arms and settling down on the couch. Together, they watched a few episodes of the show they'd started before Ted left to go shower.

As the water trickled down his body and he lathered the shampoo onto his hair, Ted recounted key points from his meeting. The new Invention of Cooking exhibit would be one of their grandest yet; aside from collecting hundreds of utensils, tools, and recipes from all around the world and from different points in history, they would also be flying in top culinary experts and food history enthusiasts for the opening. Having so many people come in and also having the entire gallery focused on food itself meant that they would have to bring caterers in, and obviously, Ted knew no one better to perform the task than the Pisghettis. He'd have to drop by their restaurant after work tomorrow to discuss the appetizers, main course, and dessert platters that they'd be serving. Aside from that, there were still a bajillion other things to do and only a month left to do it. He was losing his mind the more often he was left alone with it.

Once he got out, he tied a towel along his waist and ran another through his hair before making his way to the kitchen to make dinner. He only needed to heat up what he'd made the day before anyway, so he split the leftovers into two bowls and threw them in the microwave. While it was in there, he changed into his loose sleeveless shirt paired with his boxers; all his signature yellow. He made his way back to the kitchen before calling George over, and they made light conversation as they ate.

Later on in the evening, when Ted had read him his favorite bedtime story and tucked him into bed, he clambered onto the balcony and started to water his mini-garden. Halfway into this routine, he paused and looked beyond the railings to the brightly lit streets below him. In combination with the chill air, it was enough to make even the toughest day seem so distant from where he was now. Keyword: was. Ted had originally purchased the apartment solely for the view, but now he just felt lonely gazing down at it. He wished he had someone to share it with. There was always George, and he wouldn't trade that little guy for anything, but you could only converse with a monkey so many times. He longed for someone to be by his side, to have deep conversations, and also to joke around with. Someone who could do more than nod and make a few, albeit cute, sounds.

His mind flickers to an image of you for a millisecond. Then, he finishes watering all the plants and shuffles towards his cold, empty bed for another night.

You knock on the door anxiously, your gaze focused on the couple sitting at the dinner table in front of you. "Excuse me, I'm here for the interview?"

"Ah, you must be Y/N!" Netti, as you learn her name to be, says as she leads you to where her husband is sitting. "How was the flight, dear? Thank you for visiting on such short notice."

You wave her off, "My pleasure, I've been meaning to visit here anyway. You guys did me a favor!" Uh-oh. Was that too much? Possibly too little? They didn't seem to mind, both of them making polite conversation with you as Chef Pisghetti contentedly petted the kitten on his lap. They were extremely nice, you'd noted. Much better than some of the past bosses you'd had. At least, you'd hope they would be your bosses. Another thing you noticed was how each time one was speaking, the other would put their undivided attention on them and their eyes shone with adoration. It showed just how comfortable and in love they were with each other, and a fuzzy feeling filled your chest.

"Let's get into business, Y/N," Pisghetti says once the conversation fizzles out. "Your resume's extremely impressive; 4 years of school in Le Cordon Bleu and The Culinary Arts School of Ontario? Apprenticeship at the CN Tower? Ammazza! You're brilliant!" He grins sheepishly and you smile back in return. "I have one question though," He makes an inquisitive face.

"Yes?" Stress builds in your chest, scared of what was to come.

He throws his hands in the air excitedly. "When can you start?"

That's how you find yourself getting a pseudo-training session from the two for the rest of the time. The restaurant was closed for the day, so you got to learn the layout of their kitchen, how Pisghetti cannot accept anything less than perfection (which suits you fine anyway being a perfectionist yourself), and even take a tour through their spectacular rooftop garden. A lush green farm amidst the busy streets of New York, could you imagine? Most importantly of all, you learn about Gnocchi, the Pisghetti's kitten. The cutie had been saved from a tree by one of their firefighter friends a few months back, and once the pair had seen her they couldn't look back. Gnocchi was now part of their routine and soon would be a part of yours too. Everything revolved around the spoiled but loveable creature.

By the time it rolled around to half past 5, the Pisghetti's handed you some food so you wouldn't have to spend another day eating cup noodles and microwaveable mac and cheese and allowed you to hang your apron up. However, just as you said your goodbyes and were about to walk through the kitchen door, you heard a jingle come from the main dining area. "That's weird," You said to Netti and the chef went out to greet whoever came by. "Weren't you guys closed?"

"Don't worry about it tesoro mio, it's probably our friends. They told us they were going to drop by."

You nodded your head and hugged Netti one last time before making your way to the front entrance. At first, the odd and lanky yellow shape didn't register as anything familiar in your peripheral vision. It was only when the figure turned around to acknowledge you that you felt the wind get knocked out of your lungs. Your mouth felt dry and your knees felt weak as your eyes snagged onto those of the man in front of you. You felt zaps from his staring register in your brain, sending tingles down your spine to the tips of your toes.

Who knew that after so long, Ted Shackleford would still have the same effect on you?

It was strange. He always thought that, if he saw you again, he'd feel the same anger and resentment as he did when you left. But as your eyes connect and lock onto yours, all he feels is the sharp pain of old wounds reopening. An eternal flame of longing was reignited within him, surrounded by a moat of suffering.

After picking George up from Professor Wiseman's office after work, they made the journey to the Pisghetti's diner so that he could muck around for a bit with Gnocchi and Ted could discuss the menu for the opening with the chef. He'd called in beforehand to ask them if he should drop by the apartment or the restaurant, and they told him they'd be in the latter. Something about an interview with a girl who flew in? He didn't know. Forget pushing it to the back of his head, he'd thrown the piece of information out completely.

Pushing through the red door, the duo was soon joined by Pisghetti. George soon ran off once he spotted Gnocchi, making happy little monkey noises while doing so, whereas Ted settled down with Pisghetti and they had a light banter. "Like I was saying, Chef," Ted said. "I want you to go all out with this. Give it the full Pisghetti treatment. I'm thinking maybe 5 courses if you're up for it, some cleansers in between."

The cook nodded excitedly as he launched into his plan. "I've already been testing for this one recipe - I'll probably serve it as an appetizer - something I'm calling my giardino sliders. Oh, you'll love it! È magnifico!"

Had it not been for him keeping an eye out for George, he probably wouldn't have noticed the figure quietly making her way out of the kitchen. But he did. And once his eyes spotted her, his face turned to her and his jaw dropped. Pisghetti was unbothered at first, but once he realized the other wasn't responding anymore, his head shot up and he looked between the two of you, not sending the tension. "Ah, Y/N, this is Ted. He's a friend of mine. Teddy, this is Y/N - our new hire." He paused for a moment. "Hey, since she's going to help me make all of this anyway, maybe Y/N should join us here. What do you think?" Before either could reply, Netti called her husband from the kitchen and he shuffled his way to her.

Then, for the first time in 6 years, you and Ted Shackleford were in the same room together.

It was the latter that first broke the ice. "Y/N..."

"Please don't say anything." You mumble out, clearly uncomfortable as you shift from one leg to the other.

Ted's heart sank. He'd say this is not how he'd envisioned your reunion, but that would mean he'd have to admit he imagined it in the first place.

"I'm sorry, so sorry, that sounded rude as hell." You say, shaking your head. "I mean, please don't tell Chef Pisghetti anything. I really, really need this job, Ted." You stared at him with your pleading eyes. Ted could only nod in return.

"Um, anyway. How- how are you?" You say, biting your lip.

"Good. Uh, I'm a museum director now. At the Met. Metropolitan Museum. Of Art." He choked out, barely being able to form a coherent thought.

"Yeah, I saw a picture. You had a monkey in your hands and said something about coming by for an exciting afternoon."

"That's George, he's actually mine. In fact, he's around here somewhere. Where'd he go? George?"

After a few seconds, you felt a tug at the hem of your dress. You looked down to see the young simian from the pamphlet happily meeting your sight before rushing to sit on Ted's lap. "I adopted him about 2 years ago, he's been with me since." He said while George nuzzled into the man's arms (is it logical to be jealous of a monkey?).

You genuinely grin, "He's sweet. Wasn't expecting you to have a monkey but I guess it makes sense."

"I really don't think you have a clue about who I am." He replied, almost snappily. His eyes widen as he realizes the implications of his words.

Silence. Your heart pounded inside of your chest.

Chef Pisghetti thankfully walked in at that moment, "Mi dispiace, Netti was having some trouble with one of the recipes - or rather, some trouble reading my handwriting." He giggled to himself. "Anyway, Y/N, I've kept you waiting long enough. You can go, I understand you're tired. You can join us for another meeting, see you tomorrow. Ciao!" He said.

Nodding your head meekly and uttering out a soft 'thanks', you hurried out of there. You weren't tired, actually, but you couldn't stand being around Ted for another second. Could this get any worse?

Lucky for you, Ted didn't come back the next day. The entire week, really. Or the next. George would pop by from time to time, with you quickly getting fond of the silly guy, but his owner (dad?) was nowhere to be seen. Maybe it was for the best. You don't need to be digging up any trauma, especially right now.

This good luck streak would end when Pisghetti asked you to hand deliver a parcel. To Ted. At the Met. It was cruel, how life was treating you. After two weeks of blissfully testing and experimenting with recipes once the restaurant had closed, fate had decided you were having too much of a fun time and sent down a terrible idea to shake things up a little, knowing you couldn't say no. You sigh as you hold the large box in your hands and climbed up the steps, hoping to get it over and done with as quickly as possible. It was once again after 5 and you craved nothing but the leftovers in the fridge (nowadays, you prefer to leave the cooking at work) and the new season of your favorite show.

"Excuse me, ma'am," An old white man dressed in an even whiter lab coat approached you. "No food allowed on the premises, please."

"Ah, I'm afraid there's been a misunderstanding," You say, reasoning with him. "These are for Ted. Ted Shackleford? I believe he's the director?"

The man nodded his head in understanding, "Ah, yes! You must be the Pisghettis' new girl. Sorry for not realizing sooner, I'm Alvin Einstein. No relation to the big one, unfortunately. This way!" He said, leading you through some smaller almost unnoticeable doors along the wall to get to the director's office faster.

"Correct me if I'm wrong but you must not be local if you don't know who Ted is," Alvin pointed out as he ushered you inside the employee elevator. "Not that he's that well-known but people do recognize him in these parts."

"Yeah, I just came here from Ontario." You say in response, focusing on the ascending numbers as you got closer and closer to his office. "Started the job about two weeks ago."

Alvin nodded, briefly told you about the time he visited Ontario with his wife, and when the elevator reached its destination bid you off. "To the left!" He said. "You wouldn't miss it!" You face that direction as the doors of the lift close behind you and see a big door next to a plaque emblazoned with the words 'Director's Office - Theodore Shackleford' in gold. He was right, you couldn't miss it no matter how much you wanted to. You walk over and lift your hand, knocking once, twice, thrice.

You wait for a heartbeat before a faint 'Come in,' is heard from inside. You open the door and come face to face with Ted, sitting only a few feet away behind his giant desk with his reading glasses on his face. For one tiny split second that you would take to your grave, you imagine sucking him off underneath it as he takes an important call - beads of sweat trickling down his forehead as his glasses fog up - he'd clench his jaw, desperate to not moan and ruin your cover. God, he looked so fucking hot in his seat, even the absurd yellow suit draping over his curves and muscles deliciously.

His words snap you out of reality. "Oh, I'm sorry. I was expecting the Chef, I would've cleaned up a bit more had I known it was you. Come, sit. You're just in time for, err, linner?" He motions toward the seat in front of him, taking off his glasses to your disappointment.

You are about to protest when Ted shrugs you off. "Listen, I- I wanted to apologize. That was really rude of me to snap at you like that. You know that I'm not that type of person." He says, fiddling his thumbs.

"It's okay. Really, I wanted to thank you."

"Thank me?"

"For not telling the Chef anything. I don't really want to go back to Ontario; I'm kind of dreading picking up all my stuff. Had you said anything about our history, I could have been let go. I mean, he's your friend. He'd do anything to make you happy."

"Y/N," he sighed, rubbing his temples. Despite his tone, hearing him say your name was a treat in itself as if he'd coated it in everything that is good in this world before presenting it to you. "You know I'd never do that. And neither would he, I think. He's my friend but he'd be crazy to give up such a talented person as you."

Your heart fluttered, and you gave a small smile. Realizing his confession, he coughed and pointed to the bags. "So, what have you got for me?"

You walk him through the meals that had been prepared, sharing all the ingredients and ideas that culminated in them. You don't notice how he barely looks at the food and focuses on you instead. Eventually, he calls George in to try the food and even convinces you to have a few bites. Most of the time you talk about the kid;- mostly about how cheeky he is. He tells you how he once got stuck on the subway for the entire day, making Ted run all around New York to find him, but even moments like those are worth it because the bond between them is unbreakable. You found it endearing and secretly wished you got the same opportunity - a second chance to love Ted as freely as you did before, or at least could have.

George left as soon as you guys finished, already having arranged a playdate and sleepover with Charkie for that day. As he left, your minds were too buzzed from being in each other's company for the entire evening that you barely acknowledged the click behind you as you packed away. Ted had loved everything but gave a few notes here and there that you'd have to take up with Pisghetti. You beam warmly at Ted, giving your thanks once more before grabbing the door handle.

You tugged. Nothing.

You tugged again. Still nothing.

Third time in and you were panicking. Realizing your distress, Ted walked over (was his scent always this intoxicating?) and gave it a try himself before he outwardly groaned. "Crap." he said, "The doors automatically lock after 6 for security measures, George doesn't know that. It's stupid, I've been meaning to change it. Ugh. It just - it just became second nature to me you know?" He ran his fingers through his hair. You had to stop yourself from reaching out and playing with his tousled strands. On the other hand, he marched over to his desk and punched a few numbers in, and spoke firmly but politely into the phone. He was met with a disappointing response on the other end, causing a frown to settle on his face. After pleading for a bit more, he eventually returns the handset back in place. "I'm sorry, Y/N."

"Why, what's the verdict?"

"They can't get us out until 7 AM. We're going to have to spend the night here."

Nothing about this was ideal. You were sprawled over on the pull out couch, your back facing him as you try your hardest to fall asleep. Meanwhile, he'd have to periodically pull his eyes from your serene figure and try to focus on getting comfortable on the floor. He shouldn't be complaining, he'd practically forced you to take the bed. Still, being 28 meant that he didn't have the same body as he did when he was 18. He was definitely going to feel this tomorrow.

That being said, Ted doesn't know if he'd really call it unfortunate. When you'd started to leave, Ted was about to reach out and ask you to stay, to take a stroll with him. Reminisce about the past. Talk about why you left and why it felt like you took a piece of him with you. Anything. He just wanted to be near you. It had been so long. His nervous prayers were answered when the door refused to open. Sure, you weren't talking, but your presence itself was soothing.

He heard you shifting where you were laying down and looked over to see you staring at the ceiling, clearly unable to sleep. "Can't sleep?" he asks, giving in to temptation.

Your eyes quickly snap to him, and he feels them glaze over his chest. The suit was not at all comfortable to sleep in, so he'd loosened his tie and unbuttoned his shirt a little. He hadn't realized how it made him look seductive but seeing the way your eyes widened as you looked him up and down did cause pink to bloom on his cheeks and ears.

"Uh... sorry, what did you say?"

"Can't sleep?"

You lick your lips. "Um, yeah. Today's been a long day and it doesn't seem to be over anytime soon."

"I understand. Hey, sorry about this mess. This was not the way I envisioned this evening."

"Didn't you say you didn't know I was coming?" You say, giggling.

"You know what I meant!" He chuckles in return. "Is the couch uncomfortable? I haven't slept on it in a while, might be a bit stiff."

"Oh, don't worry about it. It's fine, I'm just restless." A blanket of silence covers you again, but this time it's not awkward. You move to sit properly on the couch, essentially telling him you're available to talk.

"We talked a lot about George while we were eating," Ted says first. "However I still don't have a clue about what you were up to when you were in Ontario. How've you been?"

"Well, I did two years at Le Cordon Bleu, but in my 3rd year I decided to transfer." You begin. "Partly because I wasn't meshing well with the other students and partly because; well, I could. I'd been offered a scholarship from CASO, so I did my last two years there. It sucks though, I really thought it would be my alma mater. I bought an apartment but after a year I fell out of love with it and soon I fell out of love with the entire province. So, I applied for the sous chef role in Pisghetti's and, well. Here I am."

"I'm sorry Le Cordon Bleu wasn't like what you'd seen in Julie & Julia - still don't understand what you see in it by the way -"

"Hey! Leave me alone."

" - But, I'm proud of you, Y/N. Your talent overshadowed our town."

You're left dumbfounded. "That's so sweet. Thank you. Truly." You say, playing with your hair. How could he say probably the nicest words you've ever received despite what you did? Surely Ted couldn't be that nice.

"What about you? I knew you were going places but I didn't expect you to end up here so soon." You inquisitively ask.

He scratches the back of his head. "It was all luck, really. I started off as an intern, but the previous director took notice of me and took me under his wing. I've been here for, what, 4 years now?"

"You were only 24?! Jesus, you must be the youngest museum curator ever. Why're you watering your accomplishments down?"

"Ha, I was far from the youngest. I believe that title belongs to a 5-year-old?"

"What? Wow." You say, bewildered. "Hey, isn't George under 3? Maybe you could help him beat both that record and be the first monkey to do so."

"That's - that's actually not that bad of an idea." He says, daydreaming about how chaotic that would be to even approach.

You take your chance. "I've been meaning to ask... what's with the yellow? You were never a big fan of the color growing up."

He falls shy. "It's going to sound really stupid, but I purposely tried to make myself look like a banana so that George would come to like me faster. Professor Einstein told me we associate ourselves with other objects better when we have a pre-established bond with them. I still don't know if he was trying to get a joke out of me, but I guess it worked. Look, the brown boots are meant to be the stem, and the polka dot tie is meant to be the seeds."

You make an 'Ahh' sound, realizing why he'd paired the odd combination together. "That's really smart, wow. But George loves you now, why keep wearing it?"

"I guess I haven't found the time to shift back." He replied, shrugging.

"We'll have to change that. Also, Julie & Julia is a very good movie thank you very much."

He gives you a lopsided grin in response. His gaze stays on your face. The silence envelops you both once more. You both stare into each other as if there were no other people in the world, your eyes sharing words that were hard to put out into the real world. "I missed you." he finally says. "I missed you like crazy, Y/N."

"I missed you too." You say, hesitantly. More than he could ever know.

"Why did you leave? You never gave me a real answer."

"It's complicated-"

"You seriously cannot say you expect to stroll back into my life like you never left after breaking my heart like that." He says, his voice getting firmer as he scoots closer to you. "I- I deserve better. You know I do. I deserve an answer."

A sigh escapes you. The truth had to come out one way or another.

6 years ago, you had an epiphany. You remember exactly where you were; Econ 101, senior year of college. Your mind was in a distant land even as you stared at the professor's whiteboard, but by the end of class, you'd come to a decision. This would be your last year doing anything related to economics; you were going to go to culinary school.

It wasn't that you were particularly bad at the subject, your heart just wasn't in it. Every day when you walked into school, all you wished to do was go back to the 4 walls of your kitchen;- smell the aroma as the onions carmelized on the pan, the repeated action of the knife chopping through different vegetables, the sizzle of the wok as you added oil to it. You wouldn't find your heart calculating the GDP or GNP bullcrap, it would always be there at home standing in front of the stove figuring out what seasonings the meal needed.

The moment the realization hit you, you rushed to your shared dorm with Ted. You know he'd stayed at home today and wasted no time in letting him be the first one to know of your new decision. He's a bit surprised to see not just you but the frazzled expression on your face, but ushers you inside anyway. You unload everything that was on your mind from the last hour onto him and eagerly wait to hear what he thinks.

"I think," He says, stroking his chin. "You should do it."

"Are you sure? You don't think it's too late? I mean, 4 years of my life have gone into this already."

"Don't forget this is the rest of your life, chowder. I'd much rather you do something you actually love rather than something you only picked because of convenience."

"I don't know, Ted... It's in Canada. I'll be there for a long time, too."

He reached out to grab your hands, your cheeks turning a shade of pink that you hope would go unnoticed by him. "Y/N. You've always been there for me, and I can't thank you enough for it. Let me be the same for you. It doesn't matter how long, or how much, or whatever - as long as you're happy. Take the leap, apply for Le Gordon Blah-blah." You grin, lost in his cheerful eyes.

That was the push you needed to finally tip yourself over the edge. He was by your side when you repeated the same process with your moms (slightly less rambly this time). They were skeptical at first - who wouldn't be? - but eventually accepted that this was your life and you were more than capable enough to handle it. He was also by your side when you applied for the program. He'd helped you write and rewrite your application several times, batting your hand away from your mouth every time you got the urge to bite your nails. Bless his heart, he even clicked on the upload button when you got too scared to.

When you were accepted, it was his arms you ran to. Ted has always been your number-one supporter, hasn't he?

Of course, with only a few classes left to go before you got handed your degree, you decided to stick around for the final exams. It was pretty funny to compare your calm and serene mood compared to your friends who were freaking the absolute hell out - most of all, Ted. He completely forgot that self-care was a thing, spending hours hunched over his history textbooks and going for hours without food. His reading glasses were on him 24/7 - not that you minded. Still, you had to step in for him at that moment; prepping his meals, dragging him to bed, and massaging his back every time it started to hurt. He kept on thanking you, but you brushed them off. It was honestly the least you could do, and you knew he would do the same for you.

One night, you dragged him from his studies to watch The Office with you. "It'll help your brain relax a bit. You can't keep cramming everything into your brain." He grunts but complies anyway, resting his head on your shoulder while Jim and Dwight plan Kelly's birthday. It's more background noise, really, as your focus is more on him instead of their on-screen antics. You hear his breathing slow down and his eyelids flutter shut. You tread your hands through his soft hair, knowing that it always helps lull him to sleep.

Soon enough, you notice how you're synchronizing your breathing to his. It amuses you at first, but a bolt of fear strikes your entire body. This time next year - heck, in just a few months, actually - you wouldn't have the chance to do this. Yes, you weren't going that far - Canada was literally the next country. But it was still a 6-hour flight, and it was still a 3-hour time difference. And it's not like you could come over every so often or expect him to - that would create a huge dent in the already little savings you had. Could these moments be your last with Ted for at least the next 4 years? Your glossy eyes turn to Ted's stoic sleeping face.

Maybe you'll allow yourself to be brave just this once.

Slowly shifting yourself to face him, you bring yourself closer. Your mouth ghosts his, your breath fanning over his skin. You stay that way for a few heartbeats, contemplating whether or not this was a good idea. You inch in closer and closer until your lips brush over his...

And that's when you feel his hands frame your cheeks, his face crashing into yours. Your brain doesn't absorb the shock of him not only being awake but also kissing you back at first but caution is thrown into the winds as you pull him closer. Soon your back hits the sofa below and he's over you, desperate to reach each and every crevice of your mouth. You tilt your face to allow him to get deeper, hands over his to hold him in place because you were scared he was going to pull away. His glasses knock into your face but neither of you seems to notice.

When Ted closed his eyes, he expected to wake up to the sight of Dwight taping up half-deflated balloons to the ceiling - not the most beautiful woman in the world kissing him. And really, what could he have done except kiss back with triple the fierceness? He loves how your lips mold against his perfectly, his tongue running against your bottom one to make you open up even more, eliciting a moan from the depths of your throat.

You don't know how long has passed when you break away, a long strand of saliva connecting your bruised lips. His hands fall to your waist, his face nuzzling your neck. You revel in his glow, reminding yourself that it wouldn't be long before you'd have to give him up. You couldn't handle a distance of 3000 km, and he didn't deserve that either. You should not have done this. You start tearing up, feeling as if the walls are closing in around you, popping the bubble surrounding the both of you.

Out of nowhere, Ted feels a wetness on his cheek. "What the - Y/N, are you okay? What happened?" You gently nudge him off your body, wiping the tears from your face.

"Nothing, I'm fine. You should go sleep, you have an exam soon." You say, turning around and making your way to your room without waiting for a reply. You still can't believe that you left him confused and heartbroken on the couch from something you had done to him. That night had been the worst of your life.

Exam season came and went, neither of you bringing up what happened and in all honesty, you tried avoiding him just as much as you could. The system you had built was working relatively well, you would only see him in the morning right before the both of you left for your exams. You'd leave leftovers for him in the fridge with a brief note taped on his fridge, but that's where your contact stopped. Every so often, when you were getting ready in the morning, you'd see him from the corner of your eye trying to reach out to you opening his mouth as if he was going to say something.

But he never did.

You started packing up your room the day you were done with your exams. You'd turned down a celebratory night out with your friends, feeling the need to leave as soon as you could. What use was staying here anyway? No, now was the time to shove your belongings in boxes and start arranging your flight back home, arriving much earlier than expected. It wasn't a permanent solution since Ted lived right next to you, but it would work for now.

That's how Ted found you just over an hour later. By that point, your room was mostly bare save for some of your essentials sitting out on your desk. He had just returned home, about to use the washroom when he heard some weird shuffling from the direction of your bedroom. A bit alarmed, he rushed to you, only to see you stacking your suitcases on top of each other. You stop in your tracks when you see him, expecting him to be gone for at least another two hours. "Oh. Hey."

"Hi...? What's going on?"

"Uh, I'm going back home for a bit. Probably the day after tomorrow."

He furrowed his eyebrows. "Wait, you're not staying for graduation? It's only two weeks from now."

"Yeah, but that's not really important to me." He clenches his jaw.

"Well, I suppose you would want to spend as much time with your parents before you go."

"Sure, yeah." You lie through your teeth. He was right, of course, but that wasn't the reason why. "How long are you here for?"

"A little after graduation, I think. Have a few job positions available, I'll need to go check them out."

"Oh, makes sense."

The conversation comes from a standpoint. Unable to maintain eye contact with him, you fiddle with your suitcase. "Y/N," He begins, sucking in a deep breath.

"Yes?" You say, biting your lip.

"Could you wait for me before you go? We could just, like, hang out?" He says nervously.

Oh god.

"Of course, Ted." You say unsure of what would come of the promise.

"Thank you." He adds, relieved.

Just as he's about to leave, you call out for him. "I don't know if I'm going to see you tomorrow, so, um. Bye. For now." If only he knew the true intent of those words.

He looks at you skeptically but returns the sentiment anyway. "Bye, Y/N."

True to your word, you didn't see Ted the next day, finally being dragged out of your cocoon by your other friends. You didn't see him the day of your flight either, not really knowing where he was. Once you'd lugged all your belongings outside, you paused to look over the apartment. A deep sadness instills within you - this was the place where Ted and you had spent the last 4 years of your life. He'd coached you through several panic attacks on that very table, you had spent hours behind that stove cooking whatever your heart desired, and the picture of the both of you still hung over the crack in the wall that came with the place. That sofa was the same place the both of you slumped over after a hard day to catch up on whatever you were watching and, very recently, where you'd both shared a brain-melting kiss.

You shake your head of these thoughts, it was time to move on. You had just been accepted into your dream school, why were you acting like your entire life was ending? Previously, you'd contemplated leaving him a note, but that didn't feel necessary anymore. You'd already said what you needed to say that night.

Wrapping your hands around the door handle, you say goodbye to the place one last time before locking it shut. As you load everything onto the small elevator, you hope that goodbye extends to Ted too.

The next two weeks have you fall into a pattern. You'd wake up and have breakfast with your parents before tagging along with either of them on any errands they needed to do. Sometimes that meant going with your mom to the grocery store or helping your mama in the soup kitchen a few streets away. Your days were dedicated to spending time with them, but your nights were left empty. It was really a matter of time before Ted occupied your mind during those times. You'd wake up and fall asleep to memories of him;- your best friend, your crush, your rock. The thought has you laughing. Despite the last 20 years of being friends, this was the legacy he'd left on you - and you had no one but yourself to blame. Funny how life works sometimes.

The day before you left, the Shacklefords came over to see you. You'd seen them at various points since you'd been back but this was the first time all of you were settling down in a room together. You didn't mind, these people were literally your second set of parents. The 5 of you discussed various topics over dinner; how your decision was so unexpected, how they would support you no matter what, how your brother was doing, if their other kids were coming for Ted's graduation party, etc.

"Oh yeah, how was the graduation by the way?" Your mama says. "Y/N robbed us of attending it," she adds, giggling.

"It went fine - it was pretty emotional to see our youngest reach such a milestone. We are really starting to feel the empty nest now." Ted's dad replies, smiling. "But Ted didn't seem to share the sentiment."

"Really? He looked pretty happy in his photos." Your mom questions.

"Yeah, he was pretty glum throughout it all. Those pictures I sent you were the best ones of the bunch. To be fair, I would be too if my best friend wasn't there with me." His mom says teasingly. You force a smile.

The conversation continues to flow around you but you let yourself simmer in that comment. No one except your parents knew that you were leaving tomorrow; they were extremely confused by your request but promised to not tell. His mom's remark was meant all in good jest, but now you're terrified of her reaction to the news that you left before saying a proper goodbye to her son. It would be fair, you felt like a horrible person, but you were not prepared for anything otherwise.

The next morning, your moms dropped you off at the airport. They both took turns kissing you on the cheek, helping you load your luggage onto a trolley before waving you off, promising to visit you once you'd found an apartment and settled in. You hug them and go to catch your flight, leaving a piece of your heart with them. Ted may have been your number one supporter, but those two had been with you through literally everything and you'd probably miss them the most when you're abroad.

An hour or so later you're done checking in, and you decide to spend some time window-shopping in the Duty-Free section. You didn't need anything, your mama had made sure of that while you were packing, plus everything was too expensive anyway. No, you just wanted to browse - at least, until, you'd noticed a pile of cute Julius the Monkey plushies in the corner of the shop. Okay, maybe you'd let yourself buy one thing. It could be a companion for this new scary stretch of your life.

You pick one up, fondly looking over the details on its plush body. Ted did very briefly have a Paul Frank obsession, you remember. He would've loved to have this. You miss him so much.

Suddenly, a hand reaches out to grab your shoulder. You jolt in surprise as you turn back, Julius falling from your hands in the process. "Sorry! Let me grab that for you," a wide-eyed and flustered Ted bends down before you, picking up the doll. He offers it to you, but you skip over it.

"What are you doing here?" You exclaim in shock. "Weren't you supposed to arrive in a week or something?"

"I got an offer I couldn't turn down, so I decided to come home early and surprise my parents. But I could ask you the same thing, Y/N. You said you were going to wait for me." He replies in an exhausted voice. You eye him. He looked a bit sleep-deprived, his messy hair poking out of his hoodie. A large suitcase stands next to him, adorned by his neck pillow. It must've been a rough flight.

You were cornered. "I, um, have to go. The announcement lady just mentioned my flight."

He stops you, spotting your lie. "Unless you're flying to Germany, I suggest you explain yourself." He replies in a firm tone.

Clenching your jaw, your eyes fall to the floor. You had caused all of this just because you couldn't keep your freaking lips to yourself. You deserved this moment of humiliation. "I'm sorry."

"You can't kiss me one day and then disregard our decades of friendship by running away, Y/N. What's going on?"

"That kiss was a mistake." You say, literal garbage falling out of your mouth. Was it something you regret? Yes, but it wasn't a mistake. "I did it in a moment of foolishness and I wish I didn't."

This catches him off guard. "No, it wasn't. You would have t-"

Gathering up all your courage, you stare into his eyes. "Don't make something out of nothing." Wow, now you were deflecting. Perfect. You sense anger building within him and realize you should probably step away while you still can. You grab your carry-on, about to turn away when he says something.

"I can tell when you're lying, Y/N."

You chose to not reply to that comment. "Goodbye, Ted. I wish the absolute best for you, congrats on the new job." At least that was wholehearted. You walk away, leaving Ted behind in that overpriced Duty-Free shop still clutching onto the Julius plushie as if it'll abandon him like you just did.

He purchased it in the hopes that you'd return back to him.

And there it was. The truth is all out in the open.

"You should know, Ted, I would do things completely differently now. I am so, so sorry. I never should have done that to you, it was stupid, I was a fucking coward-"

Ted's hands encase yours, and for the first time in 6 years, you feel like you're going to be okay. "No, you were completely right to feel those things, Y/N. God, if I had stopped being so hardheaded and realized why you became so closed-off, we wouldn't have missed so much time together."

"No, it's my fault." You say, gripping his hands tightly. "Don't you dare blame yourself. It was me - I made everything worse. I should have been more upfront with my fears. I shouldn't have lied to you." You cup his face, resting his forehead against yours.

"I would've flown there if you'd asked me to." He confesses, his voice a decibel over a whisper.

"I knew you would have, but I couldn't expect something of that scale from you." You reply. "You deserved to live your own life."

"When will you realize that you are my lifeline?"

"Fuck, don't say that... in some cruel and fucked up way, I'm kind of glad it worked out. I mean, think about it. You wouldn't have gotten George or this gigantic office!" You leave the warmth of his embrace, widening your arms to emphasize its size. He snickers, acknowledging that you have a point.

You spot something from the corner of your eye. Your hands reluctantly left their position and you reach to pick up a book lying next to you. Following your line of vision, Ted watches as you pick up and rotate the book in your hands. "Oh no, that's George's favorite nighttime story. He probably got it to read with Charkie but left it behind." He says, worriedly. He sees in your eyes, though, that that's not what intrigued you.

"You kept it? The book I gave you?" You say, staring at him with the rawest emotions anyone could ever see. There it was; the same look you'd given him when you'd fallen off the bike.

"It's you, chowder." He says, returning the stare. "It's always been you."

In a split second, you push your lips against his. You move the book aside and find your spot on the back of his head, playing with his hair. His travels further down your back until they meet your ass, caressing your cheeks and tugging them to be closer to him. This. This is what bliss felt like.

His mouth explores your tavern as if his only goal is to go deeper and deeper until you were one. It feels like the air is being sucked out of you in the absolute best way possible, melting into him just as you did that day 6 years ago.

Then, you feel something meaty poking your leg. Your eyes flow open in surprise and it takes you a few seconds to realize what it is.

"Are you hard?" You say as you pull apart. He squeaks, looking down and turning red and you stifle a laugh.

"I'm sorry, this isn't- oh my god, this is so embarrassing," he panics. "I'm so sorry, Y/N, I swear this wasn't my plan, maybe if we just wait a bit-"

"Ted," you caress his face and he immediately hushes. "It's okay. Honestly, it's kind of hot to know you're pining for me down there."

"Still, the girl of my dreams is finally back in arms-" your heart flutters. "-and this is how my body decides to react. Ugh. We could wait for it to go back down; or if you're uncomfortable having it around I could go to the bathroom and, um, take care of it?"

You bite your lip as you see the outline of his bulge and he instinctively covers it with both hands. "We could do that, but I am open to other options." His eyes widen as he realizes the implications of your words. "Only if you are as well, though." You add, quickly.

"...I'm open to it too," he reveals, and your smile widens.

Taking your chance, you smash your lips against his again before flipping your positions. Your fingers snake down to the buckle of his belt and you impatiently try to remove it, eventually being successful. Once it's off, you quickly discard his pants in the same way. Smirking into the kiss, you run your fingers over the erect tent in his boxers.

You pull away only to press more kisses onto his neck, making your way downwards to his nether region. He lets out a moan when you wrap your lips around his nipple and suck, and the sound sends a fresh wave of arousal through your body.

His flushed face scrunched up in pleasure, your saliva coating his lips, his bare chest dotted with sweat. The sight was simply erotic.

Your fingers slip into his waistband as your lips continue traveling downwards. You tug his boxers off and his member almost pokes you in the eyes.

My god, how was he hiding this in those tight pants? It was curved, veiny and thick. The angry, swollen red tip begged for some relief and your hands reached out to grab it in your hands. You felt drool escape from the side of your mouth as you realize your hands don't even wrap around properly. Your eyes shift to his. "I have to be honest," you say anxiously, rubbing circles on his slit with your thumb. "I don't know if you'll fit."

Those words were enough to send another shiver through his already overstimulated body. "You should know, I haven't really - um - done this before."

Your movements freeze. "What?"

"I'm still a virgin." He says, and your lack of reply sends him into a spiral of panic. "I'm sorry, is that a turn-off? I just never really thought about it that much. I'm so sorry-"

"What the fuck are you sorry for?" You startle him. "I'm sorry for literally everyone else in the world! Have you been hiding this monster in your pants for 28 years?" You grip the tip tightly once more, earning a groan from him.

"To think that I will be the first person to bring you an orgasm, to see how your eyes roll to the back of your head as you ride out your high... fuck, do you not know how hot that is? Holy shit, I cannot wait to feel you inside me."

Wasting no time for his reply, you pop his leaking tip into your mouth and roll your tongue over it. The whimpers he makes fuel you as your hands cup his balls. You bob your head, trying to fit him inside one inch at a time.

You see his palm quickly clamp over his mouth, amusing you immensely. "Moan as loud as you want, pretty boy. What are they going to do, walk in?" You laugh, unlatching from his cock for a bit before diving right back in.

He heeds your advice, letting out the most satisfying moans you've ever heard as he tangles his fingers in your hair. He gently pushes you closer and closer to him until your nose touches his pelvis. Is this what he'd been missing out on for his entire life? If only he could turn back time and slap himself across the face.

Your tongue only gets needier and needier, desperate to taste all of him all at once. You use it to trace his bulging veins, feeling him twitch as you do so. Your hands leave his balls to slip in between your own legs and you rub your clit in the same rhythm as you suck him.

Maybe the sight of you playing with yourself should've been enough to push him over the edge; but it's only when he makes contact with your hazy eyes that causes him to buck into your mouth and finally give you what you wanted, his essence running down your throat as you swallow. "Fuck," he says, surprising you by swearing. "You're a goddess." He says in his post-orgasmic bliss.

You wipe any remnants off your lips with the back of your hand and laugh. "That's my name, Teddy. Don't wear it out." Then you clamber onto his lap and meet his lips once again. He grins sheepishly when he tastes him in you, but that grin quickly turns into a moan as you grind down on him. He's tempted to let you bounce on him till he spills himself all over you, but he knew he wanted you to experience your own orgasm.

"Y/N," he shyly says. "Can I eat you out?"

You weren't expecting that, but who were you to refuse? "Yes, please!"

Placing his hands underneath your buttcheeks, he lifts you into the air - damn, has he been working out? His biceps are so hot - and awkwardly shuffles to the desk. He places you on the desk, albeit in the wrong spot as you end up having to scoot up a bit for fear of falling off - but with a man like Ted molding into putty in your hands, how could you care?

He fumbles to remove your shirt, his eyes darkening once he sees the glow of your breasts in the moonlight. You unclasped your bra and tossed it away without a care in the world, discarding your pants in the same manner. You feel exposed, desperately wanting to blow his expectations out of the water but secretly being afraid that you're not capable of it.

You see his breath hitch in his throat as he gazes at you lustfully, clad in nothing save for a pair of soaked panties. He reaches forward and plants a sloppy kiss on your lips, moving downwards to your chin, then the length of your exposed neck before settling on the center of your collarbones. You tingle with delight - only Ted could be so seductive in an endearing manner.

He wraps his pillowy lips around your nipple, one hand playing with your other breast. He's a bit rough at first but eases his force when he observes how you jolt up. His teeth graze your skin and you mewl.

He leaves your nipple and gets himself level with your clothed pussy. When you feel his nose digs into your clit, you instinctually gasp and wrap your legs around his head. You feel fucking powerful for a second, knowing you're suffocating him with nothing but you. You might just climax on the spot.

The feeling is interrupted when he pries your legs open. "Slow down, chowder, we have all night - and, err, next morning."

Just when you're about to reply with a giggle and call him cute, he pulls your panty to the side. He latches his mouth around your clit, giving it some experimental licks before deciding he was doing well when he hears you suck in your breath. He sucks on it like his life depends on it, teeth grazing ever so gently over your sensitive core. One hand keeps your legs apart so he could have access to more of you, while his other runs itself along your slit. When his fingers are sufficiently coated in your slick, he finally plunges inside with two digits.

The loud moan you let out makes his cock twitch.

His fingers repeatedly thrust into you, making a come-hither motion each time. It was really just a matter of time before he found your g-spot, instantly making you reach up and grope your breast.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck fuck fuck!" You curse, and you feel his lips twisting into a smirk as he keeps sucking the life out of you. When he feels you tightening as you near your precipice, he takes it as a sign to switch his position. You feel a warm, wet appendage poking your quivering hole, audibly gasping His tongue travels around the perimeter at first, but then they replace his fingers when it snakes inside of you - twisting, turning and plunging into you.

In just a few seconds your vision goes blurry and you wrap your thighs around his face again as you climax around his tongue. "Holy shit!"

He cheekily rises from where he was sitting, his mouth streaked with evidence of your orgasm. His breath catches in his throat when he sees the mess you're in. "Not bad for a first timer, huh?" You giggle exasperatedly, trying to catch your breath.

You were the definition of lewd at this moment; sweat highlighting the curve of your breasts.

"See something you like?" You joke, propping yourself in elbows.

"I love you."

"...what?"

"Sorry, sorry! I did not mean to say that! Forget what I said."

"Ted."

He sucks in a deep breath. "Maybe it's seeing you after so long but - I can't. I can't let you slip away again. I want to be with you, Y/N, you're it for me." He says, caressing your face and using his thumbs to wipe the tears welling in your eyes. "Stay with me." He hums, kissing your nose.

"You don't-" you start, holding onto his arms. Ted feels uncertain of what you're going to say. "You don't tell that to someone after you've given them an earth-shattering orgasm, you doof!" You exclaim, chuckling.

He feels like he can breathe again. "Reciprocate my love, woman." He says, pouting.

You pull him in for a hug tightly, never wanting to let go. His arm snakes around your back and holds you in place, his nose nuzzling into the base of your neck. "I love you too." You finally say. "It's definitely going to be an adjustment. I've only been back for two weeks, you have a monkey, I don't even have a place yet - but that doesn't matter. I love you so, so much. Letting you go was the worst decision I ever made, and I'll be damned if I let it happen again."

You're pulled into a kiss. This one is different though; not based on hunger or desire as before but rather passion. It feels like an ice cube spreading over your bruised lips. He breaks apart, resting his forehead on yours. "Soul meets soul on lover's lips." He quotes.

"Ugh, you haven't changed one bit, you nerd." You remark, rolling your eyes half heartedly as you recognize the line as one of Percy Shelly's. He shrugs shamelessly, elated that you remembered.

He gently lays you down on the desk once more, being careful to not crush you as his hands wrap around his dick and he strokes himself. He pulls away, slowly, leaning over to your ear.

"Think I can give you another 'earth-shattering' orgasm?" He smugly says, his sticky fingers gripping onto your hip.

"I might just die if you don't."

He blushes before slowly pulling your cum-soaked panties down, slipping them past your legs. God, the sight of your battered pussy was so lewd, but an essential detail registers in his head. "Y/N," he says, scratching the back of his head. "I don't have a condom."

That snaps you out of your trance. "Ugh, I completely forgot." You reply, annoyed. "I have an IUD, but I haven't been with anyone for a while. If you still want to continue, then I'm up for it too." You say nervously.

He bends down to kiss your nose again. "I trust you."

You reach out for his member, rubbing it against your folds with your slick making it seem so effortless. The pretty moan he lets out only edges you on - he had you wrapped around his gorgeous long fingers, didn't he?

He writhes in your grasp, fingers digging into the flesh of your hips leaving crescent-shaped marks that you prayed would remain. "Shit, shit, shit!" He exclaims.

His swearing really shouldn't be making you weak in the knees, but damn it all to hell.

"God, I can't wait to take you apart every single day." You say. "Crumbling before my very eyes. Fuck, I can't wait to be wrapped around you."

"Then what are you waiting for?" He pants irritatedly, arms placed on each side of your head.

"As you wish, pretty boy." You reach out for his hand to plant a kiss on his fingers. Finally, you align his head with your entrance and lace your legs around his waist. "I can't believe I'm finally making you mine."

He cups your face. "Chowder, I've always been yours."

And with that, you push him inside with your legs. The first stretch is uncomfortable due to his sheer size and girth, but that couldn't matter less. You were more focused on how his head rolled back and the loud groan that escapes his throat - possibly the most erotic sound you've ever heard.

It was like he'd lived in black and white before this, and all of a sudden there was an explosion of color and he was drowning in you, you only you-

"Holy crap, Y/N." He pants. "You're so tight and warm and- fuck."

"You're becoming quite the potty-mouth." You giggle.

"Hush, woman. You and your pussy are going to be the death of me someday." He says, hiding his face in the crook of your neck.

You stroke his wet hair, grinning. "That's the plan."

"Brat."

"Yours truly."

"At least you got one thing correct." He says, leaning in to kiss your lips. The inadvertent thrust that came with it causes you to let out a gasp, and you're starting to be weary of if you can survive being impaled by his monster dick.

Luckily your thoughts are silenced when his hips start to move; it starts slow as he adjusts to you, but he picks up his pace, pounding into you.

"Ted! Fuck - more!" You scream. Watching his cock disappear into you - seeing where you started and he began - it felt like he had no choice but to comply with your words.

Rolling his hips against yours, he diverts the attention of his mouth onto your exposed neck, pressing wet kisses along before harshly biting and sucking on your skin. It hurts - not unbearably so, but you still make a point to give him a hickey to show how it was done later on.

Wanting more of him, you slowly lift your hips and match his pace. "Holy fucking shit, your dick is skewering me alive." You cry, hands going to play with your clit. You see his face scrunch up at the image, which amuses you to no end.

Above you, Ted chases the warmth of your pussy. The sound of skin on skin makes him feel delirious, getting turned on by the mere thought of your fluids intermingling and leaving a mess on the space he has to work on.

He catches your lips with him, slowly feeling the coil tightening in his lower abdomen. Your pert nipples drag over his chest, sending tingles all over him. Between your pretty little moans, your tight hole sucking his cock in and the sight of your slick-covered fingers rubbing figure-8s around your clit, he knew he had no chance.

Soon he starts seeing white spots in his vision and something starting to unravel in his lower abdomen. "Y/N, I think I'm close. Where should I - um -"

"Inside, please." You say, panting.

And just like that, his hips still and he comes undone.

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

He was a fucking vision - you wanted the sight imprinted on the back of your eyelids. His thick eyebrows knitted together as his eyes closed shut, his lower lip falling under his teeth as his stomach caved in and of itself. His thick, warm seed shot into your pussy in uncontrollable spurts, stuffing you beyond your wildest dreams.

"Fuck, I love you so much." You say unabashedly, feeling his essence dribble out of you slowly. He chuckles lightly, struggling to catch his breath. "Can I ride you? I'm almost there."

He nods his head excitedly before flipping the both of you so you were on top, your palms planted firmly against his chest as you straddle him. You waste no time in moving your hips and he seems all too happy to let you take over, watching your actions through his lidded eyes. You create a fast but deep pace, the sound of him fucking through his own cum pushing you even closer to your end. "So good for me, love." You praise him as he mewls beneath you. "So perfect."

You slump backward, allowing you to grind against his cock more as his head smashes into your cervix. His fingers vigorously rub your clit, making you wail. "Don't stop, oh my god, fucckk!"

He bucks his hips into you, desperate to see you crumble in front of him again. "God, I must be the luckiest man alive," he eggs you on as you swirl your hips. You clench your walls, the friction bringing him to his edge once more.

"Ted..." you whimper. Looking into your glassy eyes, he understands.

"I'm close again, love," he grunts. "Cum with me."

"Fuck - I love you, I love you I love you I love you-" you chant frantically. With one final thrust, your orgasm overtakes you with such force that your vision blanks out. Your hips stutter as you fall onto him, gushing around his length as his cum paints your walls again.

He brings his lips to yours, kissing you amid your choked sobs of pleasure. You stay in that position for some time, with his bulky arms wrapping around you and his softening dick plugging his cum inside you.

Moments pass as you lay on his chest, listening in for his heartbeat as it slowly calms. "That was amazing." You say, breaking the silence.

"I don't think I could ever go back to my hand again." He sighs as you laugh. "Don't you need to go pee or something?" He says, brushing his fingers through your sweaty hair.

"I don't want to leave our bubble." You pout.

He kisses your forehead. "Well, we have forever, don't we?" You smile. "We can manage maybe a few seconds apart."

"Ugh, fine." You say, slipping him out of you as you wobbly walk to his attached bathroom. He watches himself slowly leak down your thighs, licking his lips contently. If he wasn't completely spent, he'd probably take you up against the wall right now and add another load to the stash. Oh well, maybe tomorrow.

He wipes off the mess you made as much as he can before arranging the pullout couch more comfortably. He waits for you, immediately reaching out to your warm body once you're out of the washroom.

He falls asleep tucked up in your arms, and as you listen as he softly snores you realize that this is the most at home you've felt since you left 6 years ago.

"I'm glad to hear he had a good time," Ted says onto the speakerphone as he ties his tie. "We're still trapped but it shouldn't be too long now. Thank you for taking care of him, Margaret, it's lucky this sleepover was scheduled when it was."

Ted was the first to wake up this morning, but you soon followed when you felt his tongue lapping at your folds. After another dalliance in the hay, you watch as he dresses while calling Charkie's house to make sure George was okay. Once he talks to him and promises to take him to the playground today, he hangs up.

You smirk as he bends down to pick up his belt, your eyes training in on his round ass. "You know, I've always loved your butt. You should bend over more, it's my biggest vice."

He turns to you, rolling his eyes in amusement. "Shouldn't you start getting ready? They could barge in any time now."

"I would, but I think you've broken me, Shackleford."

"Don't be so dramatic, chowder. Here, I'll help you."

Once you're dressed and have fixed your hair (to an extent), you place yourself on Ted's lap and overlook the view from his window. "We live right about there," he points to a tall yellow building in the distance, resting his chin on your shoulder. "Ours is the one with the garden on the balcony. Speaking of, remind me to water the plants as soon as we get back."

"Dang, if I wasn't too busy bouncing on your dick we could've seen it at night."

He groans. "Don't talk like you didn't enjoy cumming all over my de-"

All of a sudden you hear the scraping of a key being inserted into the door. Ted swivels the both of you around to meet a maintenance worker and Dr. Einstein. "Heard you kids got locked up yesterday. Ted, you really oughta get this whole system replaced." He says, eyeing the two of you. "Glad it worked out, though." He shamelessly adds.

You cough. "Of course, I'll get a locksmith up here immediately Professor Einstein. Thank you for letting us out, Jerry." Ted rambles, blushing.

The man only nods his head and leaves, unfazed and unbothered. Professor Einstein, on the other hand, lingers for a bit more. "You should take the day off, Shackleford. Maybe get a shower, or touch some grass." He says, before walking away, humming to himself.

"That... was the most embarrassing thing I've been through." He says, dumbfounded.

"Get used to it, sweets." You laugh, picking yourself off as best as you could. "I think I want you to fuck me against this huge window, let everyone see how much I love your dick."

"Jesus, Y/N, I didn't expect you to be such a pottymouth." He replies, shocked, getting up to embrace you again.

"Speak for yourself;- did you hear the shit you were saying last night?"

"I really hope you don't influence George to be just as crude."

"Um, wow. Have some faith in me."

He kisses your forehead, pulling you closer. A warm silence ensues.

"I don't want you to go. You just got back." He whispers.

"I don't want to leave." You mumble, hiding your face in his chest, inhaling his scent. He always gave the best hugs; the ones where you melt right into him.

"I take back what I said about being apart for a few seconds. I want to be with you 24/7." He groans. How did you get so lucky?

"The Pisghetti's are expecting me at 10, right before the lunch shift. Maybe you should tag along? I don't think they'd mind. Actually, it'd help us if anything."

"Well, Professor Einstein did basically tell to me take a day off, and we do still have nearly 3 hours before you're expected. How about we freshen up at our apartment?"

That's how you find yourself curled up around him as he pounds into you in his tub, your 15-minute bath turning into 35. After the stickiness between your legs is washed off (and a sex-crazed Ted is satiated), you quickly rush to get ready, despite knowing that the Pisghetti's are immediately going to know if something is up when they notice you wearing the same clothes as yesterday. Oh well.

The pair of you pick George up from Charkie's, who only live the next block over. Margaret, the sweet dog's kind owner, is delighted to be introduced to you and offers tea, but you regrettably take a rain check. George on the other hand is surprised to see the man with the yellow hat's fingers intertwined around yours but accepts it happily, even climbing to your shoulders as you make the walk to the Pisghetti's.

Safe to say the Chef and Netti didn't expect to see the both of you together, but they don't make a big deal of it. George plays with Gnocchi as the four of you discussed the final adjustments for the meals in the kitchen.

You try your hardest - you swear you do. But every so often Ted's hands hover over yours and it's goddamn hard to not run your fingers over his soft palms. This doesn't go unnoticed by Netti, but she doesn't say anything. She'll squeeze it out of you on Monday, you suppose, judging by how the corner of her lips turn up every time she spots it.

By the time it rolls around to 11:30, you start preparing for your lunch shift. "I wish I could stay, but I did promise to take George to the playground. And I think the Chef wouldn't like me hogging space for potential customers anyway." Ted pouts. "Should I pick you up after your shift? You can have dinner with us - I'll cook." He offers enthusiastically.

"That sounds good! I do have one request; can we drop by my hotel? I really need a fresh set of clothes, and also make sure the staff doesn't think I died or something."

He kisses you briefly but passionately. "Consider it a plan. See you in a few hours, chowder. I love you." With that promise, he reluctantly leaves.

That night, as you're sleeping and sprawled over him, belly full of lasagna and hands holding onto a rather flat plush of Julius the monkey, Ted makes the realization that he has two sources of snores to drown his spiraling thoughts in.

This time, it's enough.

He sleeps contently, tucked in your arms like he hopes to be for the rest of his life with his beloved (and live) monkey just a few paces away.

"Passport?"

"Check."

"Wallet?"

"Check."

"Suitcase and backpack?"

"Check."

"List of Canadian snacks George wants to try?"

"Check! That should be it."

"You are missing one thing." Ted gives you a grave face.

You nervously think back to what could be missing. "What is it?"

"A goodbye kiss for me, hello?" He says, puckering his lips like an idiot in the middle of the bustling crowd around you.

You roll your eyes before planting a big fat wet kiss on his lips. Even Ted wasn't expecting to drop you at the airport today. Heck, he'd actually been trying to avoid flying; partly because it brought a whole list of complications because of George being classified as a primate but also because every time he'd step in one memory of you leaving would rush back into his brain, leaving him a grumpy old mess. He'd even completely skipped over the Duty-Free sections every time he did have to go somewhere.

There was also another reason;- the gala was tomorrow, and dropping you off was already taking a chunk of precious time that could've gone into overseeing the preparations. Obviously, Ted didn't mind - Professor Wiseman was more than capable of being in charge for an hour - but this event was important to him. It was the biggest he'd thrown in his entire career, plus, it had somewhat brought you to him. He was next to you, yes, but he'd be lying if he said a part of him wasn't worrying about the exhibit in the back of his mind.

Of course, you didn't mind. Truth be told, your mind was also a bit preoccupied with the gala - specifically the food. Most of the work was done, Netti and the Chef only had to fix it up to look more presentable. Still, if it hadn't been for your lease expiring soon you would've extended your stay by at least one more day.

You brush these thoughts aside as you give Ted one final hug. "Is it too late to stuff you in my suitcase and carry you with me?" You ask.

"Unfortunately, yes, chowder." He says, kissing the top of your head. "Though... I wouldn't mind being stuffed somewhere else." He says, raising his eyebrows mischievously.

You hit his arm. "Oh my god, give my pussy a break. I'm going now." You whine, turning away from him.

He snickers, stopping you from leaving. "Okay, okay, calm down. Just one more kiss and I promise I'll let you go." He says before bending down and capturing your lips in his. You stay like that for a while before you begrudgingly pull away.

"See you in a few days. Tell George I'll miss him. I love you!" you grin before walking away to the check-in station, waving as you do so.

"I love you too," Ted replies. He watches as you disappear into the crowd, just as you did that day 6 years ago, but he reminds himself that this time is different. You'd be back. And very soon.

With that in mind, he turns back to head to the museum again.

Someone snaps him out of his trance. "You're up in 5, boss."

"Thanks, Andie." Ted acknowledges, flickering through his opening speech again. This wasn't the first time he'd given one but they were very nerve-wracking either way for an introvert. Dressed in an all-black suit for the first time in 2 years, he only wishes you were here to see him. You'd been trying to push him out of that yellow suit for a while now.

Adjusting his tie, he devotes one more second (okay, maybe a bit more) to thinking of you before making his way to the stage stairs. The MC for the evening, a guy by the name of William H. Macy, introduces him - and soon he's facing a room of 500 people with a mic in front of him. He hopes all that practicing with you and George paid off.

"Distinguished guests, it is my honor to unveil the new Invention of Cooking exhibit to you tonight on behalf of The Metropolitan Museum of Arts." A round of applause ensues as Ted searches the crowd for familiar faces so that he could feel a bit more relaxed. "We'd love to extend our warmest welcomes to each and every single one of you. People from every corner of the earth have flown in just to attend this event; food bloggers, world-famous chefs, historians of different specialties, and so forth. A diverse palette of company, really - but all of us, including me, are united by one thing." He pauses to draw the audience in. "None of us know what I'm going to say!"

That earns a cackle from the horde, the most distinct being George. That soothes his nerves, but it's hard to spot the monkey with all these bright lights flashing in his face. "Plans for this new extension date back to several years ago, so seeing everyone stand in it is a very special moment for all of us who have been dedicatedly working on it. We hope that you enjoy immersing yourself in how cooking evolved from the discovery of fire to the stage it's at now." His eyes adjust to the darkness a bit, and he notices George cheekily smiling at him about 50 feet away. He was on someone's head - who was that? "But please do make sure to try out the assortment of appetizers and courses that are sure to give you a taste of New York." He continues, squinting to seek out who George was on but trying to not make it too obvious. It seems like they were walking toward the stage. "They have been prepared by our very own Chef Pisghetti, his wife Netti, and my partner, Y/N L/N, who unfor-" George's mysterious booster seat finally comes to light, and Ted makes eye contact with you.

He coughs, dumbfounded, but picks his jaw up from the floor quickly. This was a professional event, the show must go on. "Who have all devoted the last few weeks of their life making sure everyone in this room gets the best experience attainable. Uh, if you have any questions, feel free to direct them to any of our dedicated staff. Otherwise, have a wonderful evening!" He reaches the end of his speech, pausing for the applause before rushing downstairs to embrace you in his arms. George scurries away, picking up cues that this should be a more private affair. "Y/N - how'd you- Weren't you-" he excitedly queries as you pepper his face in kisses.

"I'll explain everything, can we go to your office though?"

"Sure. Wait, is something wrong?" "No, no! I just don't want to be with you, not surrounded by a bazillion people."

5 minutes later, you're back in his office and he has you wrapped in the tightest of hugs. "You weren't supposed to be back for at least three days - what happened?!"

"Don't scold me, but I chugged like 4 Red Bulls to pack up my entire apartment in under 12 hours. Honestly, you should have seen me. I think I set a world record, but anyway. I brought what I could - all the boxes are in the restaurant - but my friends are going to have to sell my couch and bed and blah blah. Whatever, doesn't matter, caught a flight and ran here." Ted gazes into your eyes. "What? Say something."

"You're crazy." He says, "Why would you do that?"

"You're crazy if you think I would have missed this for the world."

"God, I'm in love with a lunatic."

You beam. "Tell me something I don't know." He grabs you by your cheeks and smashes your lips together and you savor his taste. How did every kiss with him feel like it was the first? Your fingers card through his hair as you try to breathe him in. His tongue pressed between your lips to part them, slipping inside your mouth. You don't know how much time passes before you finally part, lips wet with spit.

"I am wholly and irrevocably in love with you." He confesses.

"Ditto." You teasingly smile.

"Ugh, I take it back."

"No! Don't!" You cry. "I love you too, so much. You are my forever, I couldn't imagine a life without you."

He bites back a cheeky grin, resting his head against yours. "Imagine being so cheesy."

"Watch it, mister, or I'll kick you to Mars."

"Will you come with me?"

"Of course. We'll have to find a spacesuit for George, though. I doubt they make them monkey-sized. Speaking of suits, you look particularly ravishing tonight, Shackleford."

"I could say the same for you, chowder. Where were you hiding this little number?"

You twirl your dress for him. "Do you like it? Had to dig it out of the closet. Sorry, it's not exactly black tie,"

"Are you kidding? The only place this would look better is on the floor."

"Oh, really?" You smirk, turning and walking away from him.

He stares at you in confusion. "Uh, what're you doing?"

"You had them remove the auto-lock security feature thing, right?"

"Yeah, the day after we got stuck. Why?"

"Oops!" You say as you close the door shut and slide the bolt in place. "My hand slipped! Uh oh." He slowly catches on to your plan, a bulge already forming in his pants. You turn back to face him, a mischievous look on your face.

"Now, what happened to your promise of fucking me against your window?"

[royallygray]

Royalllll I have more questions!! I'm currently on a car ride cause I just went to the best store EVER (there's only one so I'm not gonna say the name cause I don't wanna dox where I live) but they have the best stuff. It's so like creepy-vintage-cottagecore

Anyways. Questions. Feel free to answer all or some of none of them :]

What's your favorite crystal?

Favorite place to write? (like a place irl, in your bedroom, outside, library, etc)

Role model?

Time zone (if your comfortable of course)?

For some reason I decided to wear these really baggy black pants today cause they got SIX POCKETS but it's like 75 F here and I'm warm but POCKETS

Do you have a favorite pair of pants?

Weirdest thing that ever happened at your school?

Favorite baked good?

Are you left or right handed? (JOIN THE LEFT HANDED CULT. CONVERT NOW. ALL YOU NEED TO DO IS CHOP OFF YOUR RIGHT HAND /J -from a left handed person)

A random memory that sticks out from when you were like 4-10?

The name of one of your playlists?

Aaaaand favorite dog breed??

Hey- hey- you wanna see my dog

No? Too bad.

Her name is Rosie and I love her so much. She is my baby. She's a beagle/Australian shepherd/who knows what but she's the best lol- she just turned two last month!!

Do you have any pets? If yeah what are they, what are their names, and DO YOU HAVE PICTURES CAN I SEE?

Did YOU know that you are loved? Cause you are. A lot. I promise. You're so incredibly awesome. I hope you're doing well :]

Okay I think that's it for now

I'll be back don't worry hehe

Mysteriously disappearing into orbit (look at me I came up with something)

-Mysterious

OH MY GOD QUESTIONS :D

HII

Mm. Those nice stores. Those stores are so cool.

(sorry this has taken so long it's been sitting in my drafts with just this first sentence LMAO)

(read more cuz this is long)

[fav crystal] amethyst. I actually have an amethyst necklace and we went to Canada and mined for amethyst and it was super buggy 0/10 but we did get cool shiny rocks so

[fav place to write] uh. either the floor. like anywhere. or my bed. floor is great

[role model] idk. I don't fucking know because like it might've been my mom but eh. so it's probably Taylor Swift since she's so many things I want to be. (⏃⌰⌇⍜ ⍙⟟⌰⏚⎍⍀ ⍙⏃⌇ ⌇⍜⋔⟒⍜⋏⟒ ⟟ ⍙⏃⋏⏁⟒⎅ ⏁⍜ ⎎⎍☊☍⟟⋏☌ ⏚⟒ ⏚⎍⏁ ⊬'☍⋏⍜⍙. ⏁⊑⏃⏁'⌇ ⏚⟒⟒⋏ ⌇⊑⏃⏁⏁⟒⍀⟒⎅.)

[time zone] CENTRAL BABEYYY

[do u have a fav pair of pants] yes. they're these "leggings" that are actually pants but they have pockets and they're just warm enough that they work for the winter and just lightweight enough that they're working for the summer. so far. fuck the summer I hate it it's too fucking hot

[weirdest thing that happened at ur school] okay so this was in elementary but there was a fire drill during lunch and it was pasta day but I'd packed a lunch so I was fine but the fire alarm went off during lunch so we all filed out and my friend shoved her pasta in her face and then we waited outside in the chilly winter/spring I don't remember but eventually we went back inside and everyone's pasta was cold

turns out it wasn't a drill. someone was smoking?? in the boiler room?? or smth?? so the school wasn't actually cruel for making our pasta cold there were just some assholes smoking. or smth. that was the rumor I don't fucking know

actually yeah I do know. there was a dragon. that wanted the pasta. so it breathed fire except it didn't know where the cafeteria was and so it was sad and couldn't get the pasta. so true mhm

[fav baked good] ooh I like making cookies. cookies are good. but so are these specific gas station donuts. and also cake. OMG CHEESECAKE FINAL ANSWER ESPECIALLY THE OREO CHEESECAKE AT CHEESECAKE FACTORY

right handed, but my IRL bsf is a leftie. and during 7th grade we both tried to become ambidextrous. it didn't work so well. especially for me. I think she can kinda write with her right hand.

random memory??? fuck if I know. bro wtf happened in elementary school. oh I left the classroom without telling the teacher once since I was pissed at her and then like the social worker and half the security team needed to help find me. bro I just went to the bathroom they did not need. as many people I don't actually remember but it was rly weird. first time I disobeyed shit tho! and also prolly last.

[name of a playlist of mine] uhhhh. #110: Depression Incarnate. before the matter #101. #113: You clearly need... something. #102: of another lifetime. I number my playlists so I know like when they were made and see how my music evolved over time.

fav dog breed. I am not well educated on dog breeds, but German shepherd. fluffy and loveable.

I love your dog. I love Rosie. GekatwkaSHJA she's so cute. precious bean

I've got Sirius Wolfgang and Tidae. this is Sirius :)

[did u know that you are loved?] :( thanks. that. um. thanks. <3

I'm doing. y'know. I'm very stressed. actually I should sleep. also my phone charger isn't working rn and I have assignments. and I had an anxiety attack today, but thanks for checking in im

~still a piece of garbage~

but thanks for the reminder that you care <3 :(

woah you've joined me in orbit :D

ty for the ask :)

[conspiracy-crows]

Shuffle your favourite playlist and post the first five songs that come up. Then copy/paste this ask to your favourite mutuals <3

Again, I shall use my supermix from YouTube lol:

1) Unwritten Natasha Bedingfield

Absolute classic, was on one of the only CDs I was ever given. That CD also had Reflection and a couple Lizzy McGuire songs iirc. One of the like "Girl Power" Disney-made mixes. Near wore that thing out.

2) Please Noah Kahan

Another pre-Stick Season Noah Kahan song. Fully admit I found him through Stick Season, but damn I'm disipointed I didn't find him before, when I could have afforded tour tickets 🤣🤣🤣 seriously I adore everything by this man.

2) The Prophecy Taylor Swift

This song has personally attacked me. I relate too hard to some of it, there is a lot of ttpd I relate to tbh. Which like, ouch on a lot of levels.

3) Twin Skeleton's (Hotel in NYC) Fall Out Boy

Another classic, and an absolute fave. This is a regular on the playlist. I have been a big FOB fan since like elementary school. My mother is exactly 20yrs my senior, and my uncle and his ex wife were a few years younger. So I got a lot of my music taste from them. They had pretty good taste.

4) Walk Away Black Veil Brides

Okay apparently my playlist is in a mood, why are these all the same artists? I promise I listen to other bands 🤣 but also, adore this song. BVB has literally been a lifeline for me. The fandom/bandom back in the early early days was my first foray into public fandom in any form. Look at me now!

5) Like Real People Do Hozier

Can you tell I'm a dramatic bitch yet? Also I love a solid bass line like, gimmie the rumble lol. Also why yes, I'm incredibly queer.

If I get another of these I'm gonna do the next 5 of whatever mix I'm listening to at the time lol.

Cuz often I'll have a specific song craving and then start listening to the auto-gen playlist. Those have more variety.

[wardowrites]

“You’re kidding, right?” Wardo asked, staring at his boss in horror.

“Wardo, do I look like I’m kidding?” An exasperated huff sounded from Angela as she continued to rummage through her purse in search of her keys. Wardo knew exactly where they were, lying on her desk right next to the framed photo of her and her wife on their wedding day. Angela’s long, blonde locks from the picture were a lot shorter now, cut into a curly bob that bounced with every frustrated little move she made as she continued to look in the wrong place. Wardo would have been happy to tell her where they were, had it not been for the gruesome side-quest she’d just thrust upon him.

“Cady hates me. She’ll see me coming to pick her up and run to the East Village,” he argued, finally taking pity on Angela and reaching forward to scoop her keyes off the desk, dangling them in front of her face.

The jangling noise caught her attention and she snatched them from his hand, raising an eyebrow at him.

“My daughter does not hate you, Wardo. She’s 10, she expresses negativity to anyone that’s not me, Jak or Taylor Swift. And even then Taylor is the only one that’s ever completely immune,” she said, turning so she could grab the files on her desk for the meeting she’d only just found out had been moved forward two hours - because Wardo’s boss’ boss was an incompetent balding man of 50, who snapped his fingers and expected Angela to ask ‘how high?’ and also failed to remember he had an email account where he could easily alert his employees to changes like these. Instead, he’d strolled into their little office, tucked away in the back corner of the Fales Library, and informed Angela that she had to meet him downstairs in the next ten minutes, her presentation in hand.

“Either you do the talk instead of me, or you go pick up my kid from elementary school,” Angela told him, as if that wasn’t one of the most horrendous ultimatums you could give to a guy like Wardo.

He tipped his head back and groaned dramatically, already reaching behind him to pull on his coat.

“Fine,” he said. “Does she like Burger King?”

Angela glared at him, brushing her bangs out of her eyes as she added more manila folders to the already sizable pile in her arms. 

“No fast food on weekdays,” she told him, moving aside in the cramped quarters so he could make his way out the door. Before it closed behind him, he smirked as he heard her call out, “And she’s still way too young to read Ginsberg, Martinelli!”

He knew he stood out like a sore thumb as he stood outside Cady’s school, a head and shoulders taller than the gaggle of moms in their yoga pants and the odd dad, standing on the outskirts with hands stuffed into a sports jacket. He couldn’t blame them for the sideways glances they were giving him, as if they were about to approach him any moment and ask just why he was standing in the playground, disbelieving of the fact that he could be there for the same reason as them.

When the kids eventually filed out, he spotted Cady walking out with her friend. They were animatedly chatting away about something, probably Taylor Swift if the wide grin on their faces was anything to go by. Wardo wasn’t sure if Cady had any interests outside of the popstar, and didn’t care to learn. He raised a hand in greeting to her and watched as the smile was immediately wiped from her face.

“What is it?” her friend asked, strawberry-blonde ringlets framing her face as she adopted the same glare that Cady was giving him. “Who is that guy?”

“Ugh, just my mom’s loser assistant,” he heard Cady despair. Insulted, he threw her a look, arms out to the side as if to ask what gives?

Her little friend wrinkled her nose as she looked him up and down. Wardo had bared his soul to crowds of people at poetry open mics, professors who had the misfortune of reading his colourful essays and, on one heartbreaking occasion, Louis Denver, but he’d never felt quite so judged as he did right now while being appraised by two ten-year-olds who continued to stare at him as if he was… someone that had done Taylor Swift wrong, he guessed. Like that Kanye guy.

“Can’t you just ignore him?” the little redhead asked. 

“My moms both say I need to be nice to him. They think he’s depressed ‘cause he can’t find a steady boyfriend,” Cady explained with an eye roll.

Wardo had that to contend with as the two girls said goodbye to each other with an elaborate handshake before Cady made her way over to him, exaggeratedly dragging her feet.

“I’m not depressed,” Wardo told her, immediately slinging her backpack over one shoulder and frowning down at her.

“I didn’t say you were,” Cady countered with a shrug. “Where’s my mom?”

“Walt sprung a meeting on her,” he explained. At least if there was one thing he and Cady could agree on, it was how much they both disliked the man in charge of paying Angela Brashaw-Smith’s wages. “You got everything?”

Immediately, Cady’s expression morphed into one of horror.

“I forgot the Christmas card Ellie gave me! It’s in my desk!” she cried, devastation ringing clear in her voice. Like Taylor Swift had just announced she was no longer making music. 

“Can’t you just get it on Monday?” he asked.

“Can’t you just get a boyfriend?” she snapped back, already turning back towards the building and ignoring his protest. “There’s my teacher! Mr Rojas, I need to get my Christmas card!”

“Little germ,” Wardo cursed under his breath, following her to the doorway where her teacher stood, only for him to recognise the man standing there, looking a little greyer than the last time Wardo had seen him but still unmistakably the same person. Wardo was pretty sure that he could never forget that man.

The past few weeks had been a rollercoaster for Wardo, particularly with the return of Louis. Had he been pressed, he would have claimed that the last thing he wanted was for him to see anyone else from his past cropping up in New York City, but that definitely did not extend to Maverick Rojas. He’d have been happy to see that man anywhere, even though he doubted that Maverick would recognise him.

“Mav?” he asked anyway, feeling brave as he approached him. Cady had already disappeared inside. “I… Shit, you probably don’t remember me…”

He’d been a lot smaller and skinnier back then, covered in no small amount of cuts and bruises and deathly pale given the lack of sunlight a teenage boy tended to suffer when in juvie. But he remembered Mav all right.

[howtobeapersonwithfibro]

For the music thingy: 10 and 23

💜

hi! thanks for sending an ask!

10. you have to get a lyric tattoo - what is it?

ahh. my tattoo artist friend is not really into words in tattoos and i tend to agree, and i'd worry about feeling like any quote/lyric would get cheesy to me over the years. but there are a lot of lyrics that mean a lot to me so let me think...

maybe "i'll be the banks for your river" from Banks by NEEDTOBREATHE as an homage to my partner

i also like small artist (who used to be on tumblr, idk if she still is) Paola Bennet, she is such a talented musician and songwriter. from "Morning" I would maybe get "if morning will rise, then I will get there" to continue the theme for me of making it through my darkest moments

23. how did you discover your favorite artist?

I'm more of a song person than an artist person, if that makes sense, but some of my big artists - I grew up on Taylor Swift since I was tiny (I'm not a superfan or follow her as a person but I still like most of her music), and a friend I've known since elementary school introduced me to both Bastille (beyond their popular radio song I'd heard) and Ron Pope. I think I stumbled into some of my favorite country artists (like Maren Morris) on Pandora or something years ago when I was in my country phase and spotify wasn't really a thing yet.

[thegoldenavenger]

[first] [prev]

part three of the Swiftening where i listen to all of Taylor’s albums so i can better connect with my swifty friends and also because i just spent like 7 days sick and would now like to not remember that

We are still on Taylor Swift’s self titlet album from 2006.  Last time we listened to A Place in this World, Cold as You, and The Outside.  I really liked A Place in this World and The Outside as songs that aren’t necessarily romantic! Even if The Outside was a little confusing with some of the phrases used as lyrics.

The next song up to bat is Tied Together With A Smile

oh the violin intro is back that’s nice!

Ahh it’s a 2nd person pov that’s so cool! My good friend sapphicscience let me know she interpreted The Outside as a kind of Not-Fitting-In-With-Others(girls) kind of song, which, in retrospect makes a lot of sense. luckily i fit in with my eclectic friend group so i didn’t relate much to that reading BUT i like that the theme is carried on here because this feels like a classic kind of “you don’t know you’re beautiful” kind of song except instead of an unattainable boy telling you that it’s taylor swift! that’s fun!

okay not a second person pov but still cool because she’s doing that like, uh, this is an incredibly niche example but chara-as-narrator-theory where taylor is narrating your experience but is still a character in the narrative. it’s actually really fitting with Teardrops on my Guitar, where she is pining from afar and not really noticed AND the previous track The Outside where she is set (physically?) a part from being able to reach out and communicate. She is separate from the subject of the songs narratively and here she is separate from the subject of the song through her choice of POV. it’s a nice theme and reflection on the album!

so because sappicscience let me in on the highschool-ness-of-it-all i’m gonna go ahead and say this is, like, either taylor talking about herself but removing the perceived closeness of personal pronouns by singing in a semi-2nd person pov, OR she is dedicating this to the other Weird Girls by commiserating with these experiences?

i said before but high school and teenagerdom is a liminal space where everything feels super intense all the time probably, so it makes sense using language like “jumping into [high water]” and it be a metaphor for, like, diving head first into experiences you’re unsure about. (retroactively, those lines about ‘not caring if she’d died for you’ and ‘you should’ve noticed now it’s too late’ does make sense in a dramatic teenage feelings way? it was just jarring at the time) it definitely isn’t my first instinct to interpret it this way because i think Taylor Swift’s high school experience was very unlike my own but that’s okay.

i think she might be just singing about herself but from a removed perspective creating a narrative that can be projected on if you’re so inclined.  I could definitely see this being about stress about her first album and singles and be worried about her performance, but it could also easily be about that quote unquote gifted kid burnout and such

where elementary school and/or middle school you’re doing great (and it doesn’t have to be academically, it could be socially or physically) and then graduating to higher grades starts stress testing your ability to continue being good at things.  gifted kids can burn out academically, jocks grow out of their sports, social cliques start rearranging, etc. so “the golden one” could be a metaphor for anything when your a teenager, honestly, so anyone could theoretically relate to this song, especially because feeling unseen and like you’re showing a brave face but feel badly enough that other should be able to see that you need help is a really relatable feeling. OH that’s what The Outside meant, okay I see it now.

ooooh i love this line.  It couples nicely with A Place in this World’s “I’m wearing my heart on my sleeve” but adding a more jaded angle. giving away love like extra change is an awesome metaphor.  like, the images it implies.  giving away love as charity? throwing away this major piece of yourself like it’s insignificant. sharing a part of yourself in a way that’s not detrimental to your own life to help someone else in an impactful way. from the context i think it’s more like, tossing a coin in a wishing fountain hoping to attract more (love) as opposed to like, giving your change to someone begging or busking as an act of charity or appreciation, because i... wouldnt want the almost disparaging tone to reflect on her views about giving as charity?

the way it’s phrased is like, “you’re naive to think you would get back what you’ve given” which isn’t the point of charity so i hope that’s not the metaphor.

ohhhh so yes most definitely like throwing change in a wishing well, or blowing on dandelion fuzz. 

okay, lyrically, i really LOVE this extended metaphor. “it’s not his price to pay, it’s not his price to pay” is so good. this really gives off, again, that investment in a relationship where both parties are not getting the same that they put into it. IE taylor is giving and is not receiving enough, if anything, back. penny in the rain is a good way to phrase it, and it ties that weather theme from previous songs back into this one. 

the outro is repeated chorus

i do like a lot of the world play in this one, not just the change metaphor but “you’re tied together with a smile” is extremely good.  it’s a four minute song but i wish we got another verse instead of two choruses. i think it’s some of the best writing so far in the album. definitely a sleeper favorite.

that’s a way to end the song.

Now onto Stay Beautiful!

Cory! who’s cory? i’m so glad i don’t know a cory or this would be a Teardrops on my Guitar song all over again.

so normally I would say, i don’t understand how you can compare a smile to a radio but since we’ve established in A Place In This World that radios (and blue jeans) are comfort items for Taylor we can appreciate these lines!

Cory’s eyes may or may not be green but they’re definitely wild and enticing possibly hot and his smile is nostalgic and comforting like turning the radio on in your own beat up truck (about to take the road less traveled by)

this isn’t fair because i’ve listened to Our Song already (of course) but my first thought was the “tappin’ on your window” as a thematic couple with this. i think Our Song is near the end of the album or the end of the album so i wonder if there’s continued window-themes in the intervening songs?  The Outside has windows as an implied theme, i think. Outside-looking-in often evokes window images even if they aren’t in the lyrics explicitly. 

this is interesting! i wonder if it’s another “you better cherish him because i would if i had him” song like Teardrops on my Guitar but from a slightly different perspective? it looks like taylor is already with Cory, because he’s whispering songs into her window and the other pretty girls are jealous.

oh no, that’s really cute? so the pretty girls on every corner are telling Taylor that she’s beautiful and she’s gonna be someone?

wait, so azlyrics has the quote around “does he know?” end quote and then it leaps into what i’m assuming is the chorus so is, taylor telling the pretty girls they’re beautiful and gonna be someone and that she wants them to come back to her?

she bounces back to cory now, so maybe the chorus was about cory?  i guess she was meaning it that way because she goes back to the chorus without any other characters intervening in the story.  that’s totally fine but a pretty interesting way to phrase it, since it really gives off pining vibes instead of together vibes. which, i thought taylor and cory were together since he is, once again, whispering songs into her window.

oh it is a pining song, they aren’t together i guess. ahhhh the potentiality of it all. potentiality / potential energy is my FAVORITE trope in relationships. i love that pause before the actual moment. the suspense, the build up. the spaces between my fingers could be filled with yours, but we don’t know if they will be! it’s just a possibility!! nice

so i guess she’s waiting for him to live his life and everything before realising that what he was looking for was right there all along. another very classic country vibe. i do like the positivity of it all. there’s so much well-wishing here, it’s very wholesome content.  less melancholic than Teardrops on my Guitar.  again, the same theme of not speaking up and telling him she likes him.  at least with drew it was understandable because he was already dating someone, but cory seems like he’s unattached?

interesting the communication barriers in taylor’s music.

i do want to say that this bit in the chorus is healing after the change metaphor last track.  having so much love is beautiful! it’s not naive or childish. :>

Should’ve Said No

the title is concerning, i’m concerned

The opening is familiar, but i think it’s the country instruments being played in a country song instead of subverted or replaced or remixed is pinging my nostalgia cortex

oooh break up song! i really liked the relatively hopeful streak of songs we had about commiserating and well-wishing, but this sounds like it’ll be cathartic! still concerned about the song title.

this is NOT helping my amount of concerned with the song title...

obviously datemate has done something terrible and shouldn’t have so what is it. nothing done (directly) to taylor since she had to find out about it.

it’s about cheating! okay. much less concerned about the title. and i was right! this is a bop of a chorus!! very, like, carrie underwood-esque i’m about to tear up your nice car. can definitely imagine this on a karaoke roster. i hope she gets a little vengeful about it!!! one of my favorite country genres is the woman-scorned-revenge song!!

good to see she is carrying on the theme of sticking to her guns from Cold as You.  do not let him back! good job! back into the chorus and i will say

this flows so nicely. rhyming word with her’d is hilarious but work and it feels very “i heard through the grapevine” i really like how punchy it is too. really gels with the tone and mood of the song.

oh NO

OH NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

im ending this here im having EMOTIONS

[clouds-of-wings]

Probably the biggest culture shock for me when I got into metal was that all the bands wrote their own songs. This was such a new phenomenon to me. When I was 11 and discovered a-ha, who became my favourite band right away (not difficult, because I hadn’t had one since I had ‘outgrown’ the Spice Girls at about the time I graduated elementary school), I was extremely proud of the fact that they wrote their songs themselves, because I saw it as an anomaly - and it kind of is in pop, especially with teen-oriented groups. Then I started to get into metal with HIM, Hammerfall, and Nightwish, and I was really pleasantly surprised that it was so normal there for bands to write their songs themselves.

I see the same pride I felt in a-ha back at age 11 in fans of Taylor Swift or BTS today - this feeling that you’re following an artist, not just some pretty face with a nice voice who gets mass-produced hits written for them, probably with a money-back guarantee by the writer to the record company. And I’m not knocking that pride in pop fans, just like I’m not writing this to make fun of my past self. It just proves that, despite all cultural cynicism about art-related "industries”, a sense of authenticity and self-expression matters to a lot of people. The fact that some people, newspapers and magazines even, see it as worth debating how much songwriting Taylor Swift really does proves that artistic intention is not just a tiny insignificant detail. The fact that people who are really into films, not just casual watchers, care more who directed a film than who starred in it points in the same direction. It’s not just about the immediate sensory experience.

And I just randomly thought about that in the shower today, but then I realized that it also relates to AI art and how I feel about it. One (much derided!) argument against AI art is that it’s ‘soulless’. Supposedly a silly, romantic thing to be bothered by. But I don’t agree. Why shouldn’t intention and ‘soul’ matter? I think it’s only natural, especially for people who connect more strongly with art, to care about this.

And sure, there are a lot of caveats. The matter of artistic intention is thorny. Ultimately the intentions of the artist are unknowable because art doesn’t communicate them perfectly. Fake meaning can be generated, artists can lie about what their intentions were - the marketing teams behind more money-intense artistic projects can do so even more efficiently - and I think viewers/listeners/readers by default read things into the content that the artist never intended. But I don’t think it’s silly to see it as a negative if you’re 100% sure that there’s absolutely nothing behind art, considering that we (or some of us at least) do care about the backstory of art when the artist is human. Human art gets criticized for being ‘soulless’ oftentimes too, sometimes unjustly, and it’s a pretty damning thing to say.

And perhaps the fact that we can’t be sure whether a human artist is being honest about their intentions is an aberration anyway that is brought about by mass society. For the first 95% of human history, nearly every artist whose work we encountered was someone we knew in person, and we would interpret their art as an expression of their personality and their relationship to the people around them, including us. It was supposed to mean something to us and to communicate something. Subcultures do an imperfect job of simulating this environment among people who don’t really know each other. If the archetypal art experience is painting the day’s hunt on a cave wall with your cousins, seeing a stranger’s art in a museum or on the internet is far from that. But there can still be meaning in it, and I think we should allow ourselves to care about that.

[kyriiee]

Welcome To My Blog

Facts about me.

Everyone treated me nice but everyone betrayed me behind my back. I always said to my self that always nice to others because this is one lesson that i have learned to my mom. I like pizza, Carbonara, Adobo etc, My favorite color is Blue and Red and sometimes Black and White. For me Black and White represent me something that sometimes i need to be alone i need to reflect my problems and sometimes i am neutral. I have a high standard when it comes to academic that's why i put a lot of effort when I do some Peta etc. But i always have a breakdown, overthink etc because sometimes i think i can't do my school works but i always overcome it, I have a lots of dreams that I want to achive first being a latin honor when i graduate in College and second have a degree I want to build a large house so that My Mom have a house that it's in us. Why i choose Taylor Swift theme?

Since i was a Elementary I like Taylor Swift song it give me a goosebumps because all of her song has a deeply meaning of it I also inspire to her she's my favorite female artists I want to see her and sing Cruel Summer, Dear John, Gateway Car, Mirror ball etc. Taylor swift says that We are on our own now so as time goes by I believe that when i was grow I am in my Own. And I always bring that inspirational messages in my whole life. Even I'm down Taylor Swift songs is my comfort So if I have a problem she's the one artist that i need to hear to overcome the stress that i have. And lastly i will comeback and see this blog because i gave my blood sweat and tears for this.

[jencsi]

Writer Interview Tagged by @frostysfrenzy

About me

When did you start writing? - my earliest memories of writing are back in elementary school, making up stories about animals and writing from the point of view of dogs and eventually graduating into fanfiction for CSI when I was 13. 

Are there different genres or themes you enjoy reading other than the ones you write?- genres or themes don’t really matter to me, I’m more character invested. If someone writes a CSI fic, I will read it. 

Is there an author you want to emulate or are compared to often?- I don’t think I have ever been compared to anyone else as a writer but I used to have mad respect for JK Rowling before shit hit the fan with her. I modeled a lot of my early formats after her, style, dialogue, shock, ending chapters a certain way, etc. I do love Taylor Swift and even though she writes songs, she has a good prose and I wish I could write like her. 

Can you tell me a little about your writing space?- when I was a teenager, I wrote under my school work during class, all through high school and college, I used to write in the basement of my home and the kitchen, I could never write in my room because the vibe always felt off, plus my CSI posters were on the wall for years and writing the characters while the posters watched me felt unnerving even though they are not real! I’m insane I know. 

What's your most effective way to muster up a muse?- watching CSI, maladaptive daydreaming, discussing the show and characters with others. Hearing a song that reminds me of the show or the characters. 

Did the place(s) you grew up in influence the people and/or places you write?- lol no. Quite the opposite, I wanted to escape my hometown (still waiting) and writing about Vegas and Seattle and places I’ve never been sort of helped that but now it just bothers me that I still haven’t traveled to any of these places. 

Are there any reoccurring themes in your writing? If so, do they surprise you?- death, romance, angst, and Julie Finlay coming back to life after a coma. None of them surprise me at all, maybe the romance side of it since I’ve never had love so idk how I write it for fake couples. 

About My Characters

Would you please tell me about your current favourite character?- Well shes not mine but JULIE FINLAY is my love, life, everything. 10/10 would go to war for her. 

Which of your characters would you be friends with in real life?- Julie Finlay, Sara Sidle, basically anyone from CSI. (not my characters but I wish) 

Which of your characters would you dislike the most if you met them?- I don’t write much about the early seasons of CSI and Ray Langston wasn’t my favorite so I don’t think I would like him in real life if he existed. Laurance Fishburn is cool though, just got dealt a shitty character. 

Tell me about the process of coming up with characters.- I struggle to make OC’s. I only piggy back off what the show has done. Finn’s mother was giving the name Karen so I just made up a mother character for her based off just that name. I also made a father and aunt for her and a child she fosters then later adopts in some of my fics. 

Do you notice any recurring traits/themes in your characters?- not really. If its a CSI character, I try to keep them as true to the show as possible. If it’s an OC, I make them different than most people I know in real life or true to the way they were raised (Finn’s mother is strict and rigid and very 1950’s housewife vibes while also being a progressive feminist in her work as a school teacher, working during the 60s-70s which wasn’t that common for women back then, and in the way she deals with raising Finn) while her father is a highly intelligent doctor who is often a peace keeper for his wife and daughter who butt heads often, an unbothered but stressed man who harbors a secret about his sister and came from an abusive family but broke the cycle, adores his family, would never hurt them, saves lives daily) 

How do you picture your characters?- Once I get a single image the first go around, it usually doesn’t change. Most of them probably look like customers I see at work or people I have seen on TV. 

About My Writing

What's your reason for writing?- at first, it was to keep me alive, I expected to make a career out of it, I expected to write for CSI specifically, naive to think the show would last that long, now I use it just as a hobby as it has sort of ruined my life because I spent too much time during my formative years hiding away with it instead of making friends like I should have been doing. Balancing priorities was not my forte at 16. 

Is there any specific comment or type of comment from readers that you find particularly motivating?- I always enjoy when people pick up on parallels or uses of callbacks to the show that I throw into my work that others might miss, like a detail or reference that is said without saying it and someone gets it. Love that hype. 

How do want to be thought about by your readers?- as someone who is not as insane as I seem lol tall order to fill. 

What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?- giving life to a character that does not have much representation in the fandom (Finn) if I could get the rights to own her, I would. 

Have you been told your greatest strength as a writer by others?- not specifically but in comments people have said they like how I convey emotions of the characters and how I don’t need to describe much for them to know what they are feeling or experiencing in a moment. 

How do you feel about your own writing?- I’d say a solid 8/10. I could always be better, I wish I could be getting paid to do this, but I also know it has affected my life in a negative way (no friends, no long term relationships because I skipped out on fun stuff to write alone) its a love hate relationship. 

If you were the last person on earth, would you still write?- probably, what else would there be to do? When you write, are you influenced by what others might enjoy reading, do you write purely for yourself, or is it a mix of both?- oh man so in the beginning I had no reservations whatsoever. Now? I think I let others' vibes get to my head and it has caused me to change some formatting and some of my style over the past 2 years or so. It's not a bad thing because it’s making me better but I do spend too much time wondering, will so and so like this if it's written this way or should I do it differently?

[nazli-deleri]

[cis-woman and she/her] Welcome to Aurora Bay, [NAZLI DERELI]! I couldn’t help but notice you look an awful lot like [HANDE ERCEL]. You must be the [TWENTY-NINE] year old [THIRD GRADE TEACHER]. Word is you’re [RESILIENT] but can also be a bit [NEUROTIC] and your favorite song is [WHO'S AFRAID OF LITTLE OLD ME BY TAYLOR SWIFT]. I also heard you’ll be staying in [SEABROOK QUARTER].

BASIC INFO

* full name:  Nazli Luna Deleri

* pronouns & gender: she/her, cis woman

* birthday & birthplace:  December 4th, 1994, Santa Monica, CA

* Big Three: Sagittarius Sun, Capricorn moon, Taurus rising

* location: Seabrook Quarter

* sexuality: pansexual

* relationship status: single

+ Positive Attributes: Optimistic, Resilient, Bubbly, Kind

- Negative Attributes: Neurotic, Self-Critical, Nosy, Loud

* occupation: 3rd grade teacher

* time in aurora bay: 2 years

* face claim: Hande Ercel

tw: bullying, racism, self-exit attempt

DETAILS

Nazli lovingly goes by Nazz/Naz, but not to be confused with the rapper Nas. She's had that misspelling happen before...

She once scored free drinks for her friends for arm wrestling and won. It's one of her proudest moments.

She once broke a guy's nose for pronouncing her name as "Nasally".

She watches F1 racing for the hot men and the hot men only.

Golden retriever energy. (Which is why her students think she's so fun!)

She recently celebrated her 2 years in Aurora Bay on June 8th.

Naz is the youngest of 5. She has 4 older brothers...if that's any consolation of how she was raised.

TL;DR: Nazli is a 29-year-old elementary school teacher born to an astrophysicist and a math professor. Teaching has always been in her blood and she quickly followed her parents' footsteps in that. She grew up in a household dominated by testosterone, however, with growing up with four rowdy, but highly protective older brothers. She was bullied throughout middle and high school leading to her hospitalization, but survived and continued her studies and got her bachelor's in education. She moved to Aurora Bay to pursue her master's degree all the while, teaching 3rd grade at AB Elementary.

Her Story

Nazli Luna Deleri was the youngest born to Eren Deleri, an astrophysicist who had moved from Turkey to pursue his career further in the States, and Azra Birkan-Deleri an American-born math professor at UCLA. For once, there was a relief for both parents as they already had 4 rowdy boys running amok in the house, but very quickly Nazli caught up with playing rough and tough with her older brothers, much to her parents' dismay. However, there were moments where she enjoyed spending time with her mother, tending to their garden, getting mommy and me mani-pedis, and getting her hair done. Nazli did have the best of both worlds after all, and she enjoyed it! She and her older brothers were very close and the boys were very over-protective of their baby sister. Not until middle school. She was starting 6th grade when the youngest of the four graduated 8th grade and that...was when things took a turn.

Those bullies came in the form of pink, blonde, and glossy, and Nazli was not. Sure, she, too was starting to turn heads and have boys trip over themselves for her, but not at the expense of her middle school's queen bee. Rumors started off as small and petty as Nazli getting a nose job to intense racist remarks and photoshopped pictures of her that were plastered onto lockers and sent out throughout social media. As much as her parents tried to raise hell about it, the school administration "could only do so much" as the queen bee's parents were important school district sponsors. Nazli tried to grin and bear it through her middle school years, with the hope that switching schools for high school would help.

Wrong again. As fate would have it, the queen bee also just so happened to be at this new school and with a new hive, came new torment. Nazli essentially had no friends as most were afraid to be associated with her in fear of their reputation tanking. Her brothers did their best to help her out, but they could only do so much with their upperclassman power. It got to the point where Naz couldn't deal with it any longer. Her grades were high, but her self-esteem was dangerously low. Grinning and bearing it was becoming too much. She often cried herself to sleep most nights and deleted all her socials. She tried her best to lay low as she possibly could to keep the hate away. Until she met Max during her senior year.

Max was a new kid, very timid, withdrawn, and kept to himself, but very much surprisingly into Nazli. The two became friends and slowly a relationship blossomed. Max was Nazli's first...and she hoped her last. Towards her, he was charming and sweet, remembered her favorite flowers, and every detail about her to the amount of shoes she owned. She truly thought and hoped, like many teen girls, he'd be her one and only. However, Max's intentions were shown on prom night. The reveal that he was the queen bee's cousin and dated her only to humiliate her was what pushed Nazli over the edge. Waking up in the hospital to her worried mother and her father and brothers in tears put so much shame on her. However, her family as close and tight-knit as they were held their support and got Naz the help she needed and ultimately, she was able to stand on her own two feet.

By the following spring, she was attending UC Irvine and getting her bachelor's in elementary education. Once moving back to LA, she kickstarted her career as a kindergarten teacher, then worked her way up to 5th grade, then 4th grade, and 3rd grade, where she stayed until she left for Aurora Bay to pursue her master's degree in education and also teach 3rd grade there...okay and maybe to also be nosy and see what one of her brother's is up to with his life, too.

Connections:

College friends: Naz's first friends in a very long time. They're her A1s from Day 1.

Besties: Her current besties, the ones she hangs out with the most alongside her college friends.

Unlikely friends: Name something completely unhinged and that's probably how their friendship began.

Neighbors: Who can tolerate her saying, "good morning, how are you today"?

Clubbing friends: Let's gather the troops and go out on the town!

Colleagues: The people Naz works with. Maybe they get along? Maybe they don't?

An old summer fling: The one that got away?

Exes: Let's be real...she's had like 3.

@aurorabayaesthetic

[willowhush]

hello earth-lings! my name is charlotte millicent, you may call me ‘charlotte’ or any other nicknames of your choice. i’m an INFP who goes by she/her pronouns and a scorpio who is already on her legal age.

read this first!

i do not welcome anyone who follows me without any consent or following me first, unless — i have replied to your friendship offer before, you already asked me for a permission to follow me first, or i have known you before on my other account. anyone who does not fit these criteria will be soft-blocked/blocked.

fun facts about me:

i’m a huge fan of movies, especially thriller, crime, true crime documentaries, mystery, horror, comedy, action-comedy, romance and romcom. some of my favorite movies are coraline, mean girls, white chicks, clueless, 21 jump street, baywatch, red notice, legally blonde, black swan, the conjuring universe, robert langdon franchise, kong skull island, the notebook, a walk in the clouds, fifty shades trilogy, before trilogy, harry potter series, jurassic and jurassic world series.

other than that, i also love watching cartoons and barbie films. some of my favorite cartoons are oggy and the cockroaches, tom and jerry and spongebob. for barbie films, my favorite is barbie princess charm school. the others are barbie the princess and the pop star, barbie in a mermaid tale, barbie and the three musketeers, barbie a fairy secret and barbie in the pink shoes.

i adore rapunzel so much, my forever favorite disney princess. tmi, i even sang the theme song of rapunzel's movie, "i see the light" for a school project, and it has been one of my favorite song ever since i was a kid.

i'm a huge fan of mcu, my favorite mcu character is loki (my fav ever since i was little, i literally cried so hard at the cinema when he d word at avangers infinity war), other than him i also like eric killmonger, thor, hela, spiderman (tobey maguire ver), phoenix, professor x, quicksilver and magneto. for mcu movies/series i like avangers endgame, all thor movies, black panther, x-men apocalypse and the loki series.

i watch youtube literally everyday, my comfort youtubers are kennedy walsh (loml), sydney serena, thewizardliz, nessie judge (i love her true crime contents so much) and ozley asmr.

i’m a huge fan of cooking shows! some of my favorites are kitchen nightmares, hell’s kitchen, and master chef. these shows mostly feature gordon ramsay and i really love his shows, beside those 3 cooking shows i also enjoy watching his other tv show called hotel hell.

i love listening to music and my favorite singers and bands are avril lavigne (i listen to her music since i was in elementary school), taylor swift, troye sivan, melanie martinez, olivia rodrigo, blackmore’s night, the marias and iron maiden (yes. i love metal songs. so much.)

i also like kpop, the groups that i stan are blackpink, red velvet, twice, ive, g-idle, wayv, nct, exo, the boyz, riize and zb1. let me tell you my ults! my ults are lisa (my forever favorite girlie), seulgi, irene, nayeon, wonyoung, miyeon, ten, sehun, juyeon, wonbin and ricky. for soloists, i like iu, sunmi, bibi and hyewon.

i’m also a bookworm, i love reading books so so so much! some of my favorite books are call me by your name by andré aciman, love and gelato by jenna evans welch, kisses and croissants by anne-sophie jouhanneau, the love hypothesis by ali hazelwood, the notebook by nicholas sparks, the picture of dorian gray by oscar wilde and twisted series by ana huang.

i really love and adore animals! i love dogs and cats so much! i own 4 dogs, they have been my friends for 10 years (and still counting) now. there is also a cat that always come to my grandparents’ house everyday, and i called her “meng” and i usually play with her every week.

more about me, i fancy high fashion (i love talking about designer handbags and i also tweet and retweet a lot of stuffs about fashion so i hope you’re okay with it), makeup, art, hot choco, coffee (i drink coffee literally everyday, so “no coffee no me”)

i love snoopy so so so much, i also love sanrio too. guess who's my favorite sanrio character(s)? yup, it's cinnamoroll, kuromi, my melody, wish me mell and cogimyun.

some things that i hate are cockroaches, hot weather (i hate being sweaty), thunderstorms, math (big no big ew), homework (disgusting), matcha, taro, mint choco, overly sweet foods and spicy foods.

dnf list:

fits basic dni criteria.

hates or anti any of my ults.

likes to join fanwar.

lgbtqphobic.

account that contains heavy nsfw or gore contents.

problematic.

salty.

PA (personal account).

minor and +27 user.

extra notes:

if somehow you make me feel uncomfortable with you, i will soft-block you. no hard feelings.

i’m very very very slow on replying to text messages, i don’t open my dm/line too often. so if you have something important to say to me, please do mention me on timeline and ask me to check on your messages.

i usually tweet in english and bahasa, but please note that english is not my first language. so i hope you can understand if there is grammatical errors, feel free to correct me nicely.

please do not private qrt me (it causes me extreme anxiety). also, if i ever made any mistake feel free to knock on my dm or send me a message on retrospring anytime to educate me.

do not hesitate to reach out to me first if you want to be friends (you can mention or dm me), i'm always open to those who wants to start a friendship with me.

take notes!

i clean my followers often to maintain a small circle, so if i feel like you rarely interact with me and barely seen on timeline, i will soft-block you. no hard feelings.

lastly, thank you so much for taking some time to read this, i really appreciate it. i hope this will help you to get to know me more.

ꕮ

[indigo474]

Jan 14th- sunday sunday sunday

i meant to write all week but didnt.. so much happens, all the time.

I stopped to get gas one morning this week. Thursday? yes, thursday i know because i ran that morning and showered before work. As i was getting my gas i just happened to look over at the pump across they way from me and there were 2 guys checking me out.. it made me smile.. they were kids but still.. i looked behind me and there was another guy checking me out.. it use to make me feel a certain way.. not a good way- but this day- it made me feel good and also i get it.. i look good so i really cant blame them for looking..

tuesday i saw James and everything felt heavy. i lifted less but more reps which was fine with me. i was not feeling it..Thursday i dead lifted 200lbs.. another personal record. apparently this is what we do.. we dead lift. there is no limit as to how much we lift. my knees feel better. i ran a few times this week.. not real far.. 3miles. i ran friday morning in my neighborhood.. in the daylight. first time. i feel like i am making progress.. i have this thing about not being seen.. bizarre considering all i really want is to me seen .. but i'm also scared of being seen but i said fuck it.. i didnt have enough time to drive to the park and i really wanted to run.. so i did.. i'm not sure who saw me nor do i care.. progress.

i was in my feelings at the start of the week. there is a guy in my neighborhood who gives me an icky feeling. i know him but i dont. our daughters were friends in elementary school. i dont think he knows me.. but he smokes cigarettes and watches me run in the am. he reminds me of X.. i drove by his house one night and he was smoking with the door open. something X would have done..smoke in the door way -not really outside- smoke goes in the house.. anyway. i heard this guy leave early monday morning.. absurdly early. 4 ish. it reminded me of x, only he would leave at 3 something to go see his baby momma and his baby.. it brought back memories of the bullshit that i lived through and how messed up it all was .. i didnt deserve to be treated they way i was treated considering what X was up to. is this neighbor guy up to no good.. who knows..i'm just glad i don't have to worry about anyone doing me dirty. its kind of weird what can trigger a memory.. the great news is ..it's all great news.. the past doesnt matter- here now!!!

New York!! such a great time. Dancing in times square! Times Square.. electric.. I was so glad to share the experience with Madison. We went to a museum to see Taylor swifts clothes. MAds is going to London in Aug to see swift- and wants me to go. I am on the fence. i need to make a decision by the end of this week. I am amazed by the number of people in the city.. amazed.. it was a fun visit and i would like to go back. weird thing.. we went to lunch and the other mother we were with was super excited when she saw alcohol on the menu .. i told her i was going to have an iced tea because caffeine.. it was like i ruined the party.. i told her to go ahead and order a drink.. she declined. it made me feel weird.

i made it 10 days.. 14 days porn free and vibrator free.. it was a lot of work to make myself orgasm-i'm just happy i could do it without watching porn.

I got myself a book light and i absolutely love it.. and it was on sale. it makes reading in bed so much better.. just a little light.. i actually really love it. im still reading the Bhgavad gita.. i'm still excited for this year.. not so much this winter.. it is cold and i am over it. i think we are getting snow. i hope it isnt true. I am falling in love with myself more and more each day. it sounds weird to say, type, think, feel.. i am in a love affair with me.. i am looking forward to having next weekend off.. i am still waiting for my King... i hope he is somewhere happy. someday i will tell him about all the days i prayed for him before i knew him.