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@stardustsel
Now that autumn is nearing, I'm trying really hard not to go overboard with all the fall cooking and baking -- but, we do make a good pair in the kitchen and everywhere else, so I think it's time we start discussing our fall favorites. I didn't get to spend my favorite season of the year with you last time it rolled around, so I feel all sorts of giddy for this upcoming autumn. So, it begs the question -- pie or cobbler, and what kind? @mishcco
Do you think it's too early to put up fall decorations? I keep staring at the boxes of mine in the basement and I am very tempted. My logic is that Starbucks came out with their fall lineup on the twenty-fourth of August, so I don't see a problem with it because I think that is the official start of fall. @stardustsel
I mean, is it ever? I started looking for mine on the first of September, so I think you start decorating whenever your heart desires. Your line of thinking aligns with mine, honestly -- football is back in swing, and it's starting to get a little cooler... I'm ready to make all the soups, stews, and casseroles.
moodboard : rainy autumn days
SELENA GOMEZ Single Soon (2023)
For once, Misha is quiet. He only listens, each string of words an acute reminder of what this is. What they have. What he could have lost. No, Misha shouldn't dwell on that final thought, yet his heart aches with it briefly before his body lets the energy go – into the atmosphere and out to sea where it belongs. It feels much easier to focus on the here and now, her thoughts verbalized, and his own mirroring them. But his mind, Misha finds, becomes distracted by the touch of her fingertips and the magnetic force of their bodies being drawn together, her lips so close he can taste her breath mixed with the briny air.
"It doesn't pay to idealize it," Misha says aloud, mostly as a reminder to himself, "It will be how it's meant to be. I think over planning can sometimes only lead to disappointment in the end." He takes a step closer, framing her feet with his. "There happens to be a lot of space where I am now... space I've been saving for you, if I'm being honest. It's there for you whenever you're ready." One short hour ago, he may have laughed at the sentiment and cursed himself for how seemingly futile it felt to hoard empty space for a person he wasn't sure wanted him in the same way he wanted her. It's clear now that it hadn't been hopeless at all.
Once again, Misha holds silence, but only because he's far too shocked to speak. He doesn't have to wonder if what Selena is saying is true – he knows her words are genuine, and that makes it even more astounding to hear them. "I love you..." Misha mumbles after some time has passed. "And I'm so grateful to have someone like you in my life. Someone kind and honest, someone who sees me. Arguably, it's my favorite thing about you, Sel. You don't see what you want to see. We see each other for who we really are and that's what drives us. This is the realest love I've ever felt..." Misha has to pause, swallow a mouthful of air to try and stave off the tears; one still escapes and he quickly drops his eyes to their intertwined hands. It doesn't matter how many seconds Misha spends trying to regain composure – when he speaks again, his voice betrays him with a wavering lilt.
"Marriage, in a lot of ways, is a formality. I don't care about signing the dotted line necessarily. I care about you and being with you. But..." Ice blue eyes finally lift and so too do the corners of Misha's mouth, ticking up into a full smile, teeth and all. "Don't give me any ideas. I can't lie and say that I haven't considered whisking you off to secretly trade vows without anyone knowing..." He halfheartedly grimaces at the thought. "I know at least one person who might get extremely offended if we got married and didn't tell her..."
Misha leaves it at that – an open invitation. There is no doubt in his mind that one day, he'll slip a ring on her finger, and maybe that day will come sooner than either of them think, but for right now? This promise of forever is more than enough. Whether they exchange words at an altar tomorrow or 10 years from now doesn't matter.
The once vibrant sunset has faded to a gray dusk, the waters of the sea now churning with choppy waves. It may be summer, but the chill is ever present in the air as the sun sheds its final rays on the earth for the day. In those moments of twilight, Misha is drawn to her lips again, and the love feels infinite and so very real, like it could stop the very flow of time. The divine thread that binds them has been pulled taut again, the fraying edges mended and strengthened to hold whatever weight they will have to carry together in the future. Only when the words are burning Misha's throat does he peel himself away, his shoulders visibly cresting and falling with deep but uneven breath. His eyes are almost luminescent even in the low light, like polished blue topaz.
"Let's go home..." His lips skim hers once more, allowing just a breath to pass between their mouths. "The only thing I want tonight, and forever, is you, Selena."
“Being with you is the first time I don’t care about what comes next,” Selena admits, almost bashfully. “I don’t know why, but I – I feel like I always have to have it all figured out, that something will go horribly wrong if I don’t know all the steps that will be taken.” She takes a deep breath, not really sure why this confession feels heavier than most. “You’re the first thing I’ve ever felt sure enough about to trust relatively blindly.” She runs a hand down the length of his arm before landing it in his palm, offering a reassuring squeeze there. “I don’t know if you know just how important that is to me,” she whispers, “but it means a lot.”
Space I’ve been saving for you. Moisture pools in the corner of brown eyes with the newfound knowledge that he’d maintained a place for her; even after everything, he was still betting on them being back together – sometime, somehow. “That sounds a lot better than the drawer and side of the bed I have with your name on them at my place,” she laughs lightly, hands briefly moving to her face to swipe at rolling tears. “I haven’t gotten around to unpacking everything so, if you’re serious…” she says, tone with an upwards lilt to almost offer a question, “let’s talk about it more this week. Waking up next to you already feels like a dream most days; I’d never take it for granted if that luxury became part of every morning’s landscape.”
“I love you,” Selena murmurs back in response, voice quiet and shaky but the words crawling their way out of her mouth nevertheless. As his attention drops to their hands, hers does too – fingers again skimming the path of his knuckles in an effort to ground herself before stitching all the thoughts filling up her mind into something coherent. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted out of anyone…” she nods, a small smile slipping onto her features. “To be loved for who I am, not who I’m wanted to be – and you make that look like the easiest thing in the world, which is how I’ve known it was meant to be you – for months now. It’s finding a love like ours that makes every path before this one that didn’t work out make all the sense in the world.”
“I know, and that’s what I mean – I would’ve had to have all the formalities, in a different iteration of this very moment. You’ve changed my perspective on what’s important in the best of ways. We’re what matters; everything else is details.” She laughs a little, shaking her head at the lightheartedness of it all. “I won’t lie and say there’s not a tiny part of me that doesn’t still want a white dress fairytale,” she shrugs, “but the days of it being a necessity are long gone. I’m happy just to have you and get to be the one by your side for all of life’s adventures. But, if you ever want to…” She licks across her lips. “No heads up needed. They’re ready – the vows, I mean.” At the mention of their mutual friend, the smile that sits on her face widens. “We’d have to tell her almost immediately, if we went that route.”
Let’s go home. The phrase bears more weight now that he’s offered more than just a night’s stay; the option and newly opened door sits on her chest as the sky darkens and they begin to walk. Sandy shores and sky that stretches for miles fades as the pier and its storefronts come back into view. She slips back into her shoes and makes sure to keep Misha’s hand in her own as she lets him lead toward the direction of his home. As they step almost in sync, Selena catches flickers of early days – making their way from bars, parties, and the like with a certain haste to get undressed when behind closed doors. There’s still some semblance of that urgency, undoubtedly so, but Selena can’t help but want to take her time – to be even more intentional than she’d been the first time around. She recalls one of the first nights he’d taken her home, his jacket hanging from her shoulders as she slipped off her heels in his entryway – and she could cry again at that alone, at all those nights she shared with him that she prayed to whoever would listen wouldn’t be the last night, grateful that additional evenings were always granted but never expecting this – never quite harboring the idea of forever.
She abandons her shoes outside his front door, wary of sweeping in any sand with her steps. She waits patiently for him to open the door, a knot of nerves tangling itself in the pit of her stomach as if it’s the first time he’s ever brought her home – and a part of her hopes that teenage giddiness she felt that very first night never fades. Her fingers rest briefly at the hem of her shirt, thumbs running over the stitching at the seams before they make their way inside. “Would it be too cheesy, even for us,” she mumbles, pulling him close and running her hands down his chest, “to want you to have me on the couch – at least for a moment – as a reminder of the night that changed everything for me for the better?”
I know. But I will say, there is something vaguely dangerous about the idea of you in one of my old shirts and nothing else. There isn't anything more chaotic than that image in my head and yet, I still can't wait for that day should it come. Even if I think Christmas cards are kitschy, that's what makes them all the more endearing in my opinion. The fur family finally coming together is already making me a little misty eyed, but you add those two humans I'm responsible for and there isn't a thing I wouldn't do to have us looking like the slightly unhinged but painfully adorable white picket fence family. Does this mean I have to buy a minivan? A permanent plus one... now that I can get behind. I'm lucky that you'd even consider me for that role, but I will gladly accept it and never complain. I know I say it often, perhaps annoyingly so, but I feel the need to remind you that I love you.
There are many things dangerous about that, but I enjoy the prospect and if you pick a shirt out for me -- I think I can make that happen sooner rather than later. I like the multitudes of ways that story could end, the more that I think of it. I'm thinking we at least need to try to muster a Polaroid photo for the fridge, if nothing else. 'Slightly unhinged but painfully adorable' is the best tagline I've heard in ages -- I'm holding onto that one for the bottom of said holiday card. I don't know; do you want to buy a minivan? I don't know that it's required but, if you're looking for an excuse, I think you just found one! I'm the lucky one getting to have you as the one that comes home with me every night, while everybody else is just enjoying the view. Annoyingly so? Not possible, not with something like that at least. I love you very much, you sweet human.
The words have barely made it past Selena's lips before his eyes begin to feel hot and wet in the corners. Valentine's Day was one of those moments that he had relived over and over again during the darkest nights, when his pillow had been soaked with tears and his limbs stretched for her warmth in the middle of the night, only to find cold sheets. The one thing he had never let himself remember is the aftermath – her delicate fingers doing what Misha could only describe as magic as she explained the process of pressing the flowers between pages. Now, that memory is sharp and clear in his mind, no longer muddled by the pain of remembering something so personal and intimate. Thank god the tears never come, but his voice wavers when he finally says, "I'd love to see how they turned out." And then, with a newfound lightness, Misha adds, "I think there would be no better person for the job." But when the topic shifts to him, Misha's expression changes – tension holds in the crease of his brow, deep worry lines taking shape across his forehead and around his mouth. Should he be honest, even if he knows it'll sound pathetic? "I haven't been able to focus on many projects lately," sheepish words, an embarrassed duck of his head to shift his eyes away, "A few things here and there, but I kept getting frustrated with the process. I'll get back to it soon. I think I might have a little bit of inspiration now..."
Misha hadn't expected such a sentimental counter to his words and for the first time in months, he feels his ears flush warm – there is no doubt that they've turned from their wind chapped pink to a deeper red hue. "That sounds much nicer than what I said," Misha quips, "But you're right too. I would much rather be loving you right by your side. That's what we both deserve, isn't it? No more distance, no more trying to run. Let's embrace it and see where it takes us."
Color breaks through the clouds and in some way, it feels like some cosmic sign that this will be okay. More than okay. Nothing has ever felt more right. And so, they walk, and Misha finds himself lost in a stream of relaxed, inconsequential thoughts about the sand between his toes before Selena's voice greets his ears again. He almost teases her about the metaphor, but before he can press the words through his now upturned lips, time seems to halt for the length of three syllables. Forever. Misha stops in his tracks, the waves they had been narrowly avoiding now sloshing gently around his bare ankles. He keeps his eyes steady on Selena's face silhouetted against the darkening sky, fingers still stitched together but a small distance between them. Too much.
"Is that what you want?" A big question, maybe a question they aren't ready to tackle yet, but it comes out of Misha's mouth and there is no stopping it. "Forever, with me?" Misha takes a step toward her, a hand coming to rest at her neck, thumb tracing the angle of her jaw. Eyes, searching hers for the answer he's barely allowed her time to give before his mouth opens and more words flow out. Secrets. "I've thought many times about our happily ever after. What that might look like. But I doubt that anything I think up in my head could ever compare to the real thing." He meets her lips briefly, just a second of a stolen kiss, before pulling away just enough to hold her dark eyes with his, breath slightly uneven, pupils wide and glassy. "Because Selena," Misha enunciates her full first name, for emphasis, "I would do everything I could to make that happen."
Selena nods her head, tongue poking briefly between her lips as she walks herself through the motions of pressing every petal carefully -- labeling the different types of florals and journaling the night's events and feelings on the adjacent page as to never forget how wonderful she'd felt that night. She notes the slight change in his expression -- sheepish, almost -- as he admits he hasn't felt particularly driven to build or create in the recent past. "Hey, no worries," she says softly, gliding her thumb across his knuckles. "There's so much time to get back to all the things and the people we love." The banter is dipped in honey, and Selena's eyes are glassy with affection as she focuses on his features while her feet press firmly into the cold sand. "I can't imagine anybody more deserving of all the love in the world than you, Misha Collins."
Different hues continue to streak across the sky as the pair walks and talks. The golden shade of the setting sun captures Misha's face in the most gorgeous glow that this is one of those moments where Selena isn't sure that he's real, that this is real -- but, he's interrupted that brief train of thought with a question. A question that, admittedly, makes her stop for a moment and just look at him -- at the definition of his cheekbones, the occasional stray hair in his brows that she always finds far too endearing... and as her gaze flits between his countenance and the calm surroundings that tangle around them, the question rings inside every channel of her brain: Is that what you want?
She tugs at his hand a bit as she walks toward the water, only retreating the embrace to roll up her jeans at the ankles before she interlaces their fingers again. "It's all I want," Selena clarifies, that nervous scrunch of her nose showing itself for the first time in months. Those glassy eyes grow misty now, and everywhere Misha touches turns to fire; it'd been so long she almost couldn't recall the sensation of his hands on her skin -- a frightening realization that fortunately is foregone now that they're together again. "Forever, with you." Her hand finds itself in his hair, gently combing through what has been tousled by the salty air. Her jaw slacks at his touch to it, breaths slow yet shallow as she tries to keep herself steady.
"I don't think anything I think up could be as good as what might play out, either," Selena shrugs, blinking thrice to move a few runaway tears out of sight. His mouth is on hers just as quickly as it's gone, and she leans in to follow him until that last second where their lips part. "I'm really not even hung up on the intricacies of what it would look like. I know we have dreams of the stand that may go on to be a general store at this rate, and maybe... I don't know, a place together somewhere down the road?" She chews slightly at her lower lip. "I used to care so much about things that, in hindsight, don't matter for my future anymore."
"The only thing that matters is that it's you, Misha." Her hands find either side of his face and pull him toward her for a kiss. "My mind's been made up for months, even when we weren't 'together,' that I would find a way to make this right and convince you I wouldn't mess this up again -- because I can't fathom an existence that doesn't involve your laugh, your jokes, your laughter at my jokes, and your immeasurable love. I don't even need to be married, but I'd meet you at a courthouse tomorrow or in twenty years. You deserve the world, and I fully intend to spend the rest of my life trying to give it to you."
Selena, lovely to see you again! I was a bit surprised, really, when I heard you were in town. Big change from your usual scene, yeah? Anyway... um, I just wanted to make sure there's like, no hard feelings. I heard about you and that guy and I'm happy for you that it's working out in the end. I'd love to get coffee and catch up sometime. As long as that man doesn't give me the bombastic side eye again – he's got nothing to worry about from me. [ @selmcries ]
Zayn, hi! I will be the first to admit that I... also wasn't really expecting to see you around, to be honest? Not that it's a bad thing that you're here, of course -- I just didn't expect us to be bumping elbows again so soon, I suppose. Sort of big change, yeah -- a needed one, nevertheless. Los Angeles is only fun for so long, you know? After a bit, the novelty wears off and the visibility's just a bit too exhausting. Oh -- right. Um, yeah. Of course -- I mean, I never thought there would be to begin with...? Which is good, I suppose, that there aren't any on your end. No bad blood on my side, either. I had a really nice time with you, for what it's worth. I don't doubt he may have given you the side eye, but he's really got nothing to worry about. Coffee could be... okay. A little... interesting, for me, but I wouldn't mind if you really wanted to. I suppose I just wasn't expecting you to still want to be involved with one another after things dissolved, so that's just... another unexpected thing, I guess. I really don't mind, though; please don't think I wouldn't want to be friends. I just didn't think you'd be interested in that.
You don't even need to ask – feel free to steal them for whatever purpose you want them for aside from destroying them! Or if you prefer it to be a more formal exchange, I'll pick the most sentimental of the bunch just for you. I know, it's like I go to sleep and the next day I wake up to several new words and phrases I need to memorize. Which, yes, is hyperbolic but sometimes it does feel that way! No, no, of course not – you know that sentimentality is a big part of who I am and no "cheesy" thing you say could ever make me cringe. Fully and wholeheartedly agreed. I've never been more thankful to have you here with me. Hazel is coming at the end of this week and I know she'll rival my own excitement to see you. But speaking of important dates – there's that dinner on Saturday and I was wondering if maybe you'd do me the honor of coming as my date?
Destroying them would never be an option, rest assured. Any well-loved, well-worn one would do; I'm in dire need of getting cozy. Hyperbole aside, it really does feel like that some days! You say that now... when I'm trying to get us, your kids, and the four-legged friends into a matching PJs picture for some holiday card shenanigans come December, you might think otherwise -- but, all things considered, I have no reason to believe you actually would. Hazel being here just makes everything that much better, as if it wasn't perfect already. We can have family walks around town together, you two plus me, Win and Daisy! My two will be so happy to see her when we get the gang all together. I can't imagine a world where I wouldn't be your date, Collins. I was sort of hoping you'd be my permanent plus one going forward to all of the events and fun nights around this place -- is that an arrangement you'd be interested in?
The best thing about unpacking is getting my kitchen put together first so I can bake some sweet treats to get that homey feel if you know what I mean? Got some F.R.I.E.N.D.S playing in the background, my house smells like chocolate chip cookies and my cats are going nuts for the empty boxes. I’ve made the decision of unpacking my bedroom last and I can’t tell if that’s a good plan or not, because I know as soon as I see my bed I’m just going to knock out for the next week or so. But on the other hand, I miss my bed. As you can see, I’m terrible at making choices. ( @zephyrbaystarters | @zephyrbayhq )
I love all of the things you're listing right now -- baking for your besties (which I hope I'm still included in), watching F.R.I.E.N.D.S (have we ever discussed which characters we are? I feel like I'm definitely Monica, but please weigh in), and the fact that my best friend in the whole world just moved to town! This is officially the best weekend ever; I can feel it. I think unpacking your room last is a decent plan, unless you get too tired to finish it in one go... how did that end up, anyway? Did you crash on your couch or the floor, or somewhere else? Do tell, and also tell me when I can have you over for a spaghetti and wine night.
It feels good to hear her say those words and at the same time, it fills Misha with a sadness, thinking about what her own internal monologue must have been like. If it was at all similar to his own, that deep ache in his chest only grows, and he is painfully aware of the nights he spent reaching for a person that wasn't there. Days in his lonely house, before he moved here, with the traces of her still lingering that he never had the heart to pack away or get rid of. Nothing's worse than thinking you'd never look at me like this again. Misha had different words to describe it, but he understood that feeling all too well – but there is relief in hearing her validate his own fears.
Her gentle touch is easy to lean into, his eyes closing, a quiet gust of breath passing through his lips when their mouths part. "I love you too," he mirrors her sentiment in a low voice, nearly swept away by the ocean breeze. He fights the urge to apologize again, but the I'm sorry is still there on his tongue, trying to force its way past his teeth and lips to be known yet again. He listens to her speak of those things they had talked about, the promises they made before the wedge was driven between them, and he feels lucky. Lucky that she hasn't forgotten, that even though they're in some way wiping the slate clean, that those daydreams Misha found himself caught up in are still on her mind too. "If there isn't, we'll make room," he muses, lips pulling up into a half smile, "And I can't wait to see what you have to show me. We have some catching up to do and I'm happy to spend my days doing it, if it means being next to you."
Misha thinks on Selena's words for a moment, his expression that of pondering, and then he smiles – a slow growing, gentle grin that brightens his once dull eyes against the backdrop of a cloudy sky. "I'm not much for platitudes, but they do say that sometimes distance makes the heart grow fonder." He peels away, but only far enough to make a slight movement, to take her hand and lace their fingers together. The warmth of her hand in his somehow makes it feel like all of this is going to be okay. Misha doesn't want this moment to end, but with the sun already hidden behind the thicket of gray clouds and evening fast approaching, he wants to take in this scene with her while they still have daylight. He toes off his shoes at the threshold between parking lot gravel and soft, cool sand and momentarily relishes the feeling before turning back to her, giving her hand a light squeeze.
"There is no one who makes me feel more myself than you do," comes his own admission as he attempts to lead her down to the beach, devoid of people because of the looming possibility of rain. His eyes flit to the serene ocean, his lips still turned up in that same smile. "No more distance. Just the two of us here, together, making new memories with the people we love. That's all I've ever wanted, Sel. You are all I've ever wanted."
Selena tries not to dwell on what it was like — the nights and days that weren't occupied by Misha himself but rather with thoughts of himself instead, but it's admittedly difficult. There's pent-up guilt there, minutes becoming hours before whole weeks had run their course and she'd begun to consider what life would have to look like without him in the same capacity — a narrative she neither wanted to write nor be the main character of. They don't talk for a moment — and Selena's grateful for this, the moments of just breathing in scents of salt and sea and him — but he opens his mouth again and she unravels just as easily as she did the first night the depths of her mind were no longer well-kept secrets. I love you too.
"Those flowers you gave me for Valentine's Day pressed perfectly, by the way," she admits, a rosy shade dusting along her cheekbones. "I was thinking maybe I could teach a workshop on floral pressing one day, so other people could immortalize memories just as sweet as the ones we made that night in a similar way..." Her voice trails off, but the sentiment lingers; she's neglected to mention in their banter that she actually has done some unpacking, just enough to find all the pieces of them — pictures, gifts, letters — and they all have a new special spot in her new place. "I want to know what you've been up to as well," she adds with a scrunch of her nose and playful lilt in her tone. "Is there a new DIY project I need to be in the loop on? It was a bit of woodwork the last time, I think... how did that all end up, anyway?"
They do say that sometimes distance makes the heart grow fonder. He's right — she knows he is. It is Misha, after all. Even when he's blatantly wrong, Selena can always find a sliver of truth in his words. She's decided it's just the kind of person he is — someone who often speaks in such earnest can never really be entirely wrong. "I know you're right," she eventually offers, because she does, "but in the same vein, I'd rather grow more fond right next to you. I used to think it was impossible to love you more than I did — or do — but I surprise myself every day." Her motions mimic his; she slips out of her flats and follows him toward the shore, feet squishing into the cold of the sand and her thumb tracing the outline of his hand in her own.
Selena follows him easily; where he goes, she wants to be — and the sun begins to tiptoe across the length of the horizon, leaving the sky painted shades of blues, yellows, and orange. "I feel the same," she nods after silence returns between them, licking across her lips as she turns her head to face him and a smile slides onto her features. "I'm really, really excited for the next chapter of the story we're writing — and even though I'm not one for all the clichés, I think that metaphor is my favorite." She takes a deep breath as she gazes at the expansive sky, giving his hand a squeeze while maintaining her focus out beyond the water. "I didn't think I'd be a forever kind of person," she says, laughing breathily in spite of herself, "but I don't know what I'd do if I didn't have forever with you."
I’m partial to a delicious pina colada. But I’ll drink anything! I love a sangria. Let’s start with that and see what happens! Oh, I have so many nice things to tell you, lovely. I would never steal all of your tea and not give you some to sip on yourself.
Piña coladas, huh? Can't say I blame you, though the hangovers are a bitch and a half when you hit thirty. Sangria is the best -- I like to make mine with pomegranate juice. What's the tea, then? How're you liking town so far?
My pride was keeping me from looking it up but it turns out that you're right after all and I'll gladly let you have the win. It was all leather jackets and T-shirts that look like they hadn't been washed – well, I suppose most of them hadn't been. I promise I'll actually wash my shirts now that you can buy things intentionally distressed. I think so, but please don't quote me on it. You know I try to keep up but it's getting increasingly harder when there's three new terms every week to memorize. You and I have been using the same excuse because my boxes already have a thin layer of dust. I won't even think about them until after this week is over. No, no, it doesn't sound cheesy at all... I feel the same. It all feels sort of surreal – everyone back together again. And you're here, which makes it all the better.
Despite the whole distressed look that's all in right now, can I have one of your old shirts? For sleeping in, of course --- and anything else, I suppose, but my mind went to getting cozy in one of your well-loved tees. It is hard, isn't it? Hell, I consider myself pretty 'with it' most of the time and even I can't follow all the new words and phrases they've got now. Well, I'm glad it doesn't sound cringey enough to make you turn around and walk the other way. You know, I was thinking the same thing... that most things are better with you, after all, and the bay is no exception. Is Hazel here, too?
I bought the place and you'd think they'd have picked up on it during the appraisal, but shit happens. Probably sprung a leak while it was sittin' empty. Oh yeah, but who doesn't love free labor from their friends either way? Pretty's pushin' it, but who am I to knock your type, right? But you know I just love to give that guy shit, especially when he's snagged himself a pretty lady. Oh, hell yeah! We're gonna have a real Texan party, mechanical bull and all. You think we can convince the mayor to slap one of those suckers down on the sand for us so we can show off our ridin' skills? Sure have – got two albums out now but it's been pretty under the radar since we don't tour or anything like that. It's mostly for fun. Nah, you wanna talk about Jack of all trades, that's that other guy. But you're a Jill of all trades yourself, y'know.
I'd argue you're both pretty; I just have a soft spot for the other guy. Are we bringing a mechanical bull back? It's still a miracle of sorts there were nothing more than a few bruised knees from the last rodeo, but that's a piece of history I actually wouldn't mind repeating itself. Are you or your bestie planning on whipping out the chaps for the occasion? Asking for a friend that may or may not be me. A mechanical bull in the sand sounds like a scratched cornea waiting to happen but, hey --- I'm not one to turn down a good time, am I? I might be wearing safety goggles all the while, but I think I can make them look good all things considered. Oh, shush -- you're both ridiculously talented. Here I was not even knowing you were a whole musician alongside all the everything else!
Feel free to come and hang out with you new best friend…and your old best friend would be fun to hang out with too. That’s very true! But I feel like that would be a waste for them, honestly. There’s quite a lot of them but I’m partial to the lemon one. It’s the one not many like so more for me!
My old best friend, huh? Who's that? I didn't even know lemon cake pops existed, so this is a revelation for me. I'm partial to the red velvet ones, but I just love red velvet anything. How're you enjoying the beach bonanza and all its festivities?
I really chose an amazing time to move in-all I can say is that the beach shenanigans are definitely distracting me from my unpacking. Why unpack when you can dance in the sand in your favorite summer outfit is what I like to say. You want to go and get a drink with me and tell me stories? What’s your poison?
@zephyrbaystarters
Depends on what kind of stories you're hoping to get out of me, Bailey. I'm a white wine gal myself; what's your poison? And are we swapping stories? I'm not spilling all my tea to get nothing in return.
