#c.rachel.han

[themadisynhuang]

≈ bluebottle vineyard stall, farmer’s market. with @rachelxhan. for task#004 — randomizer #1.

Grateful that the staff on the farm hadn’t arranged for the farm to be selling anything on the market this week, which meant Mads didn’t have to peddle fruit and vegetables for change (it wasn’t exactly a hardship, hell, if she could promote those shady Morphe brushes yonks ago, she could sell a few apples). Taking full advantage of exploring the stalls to their full extent, the former influencer allowed herself to get lost in the hustle and bustle, mentally being transported back to her favorite market back in LA.

If her heart panged slightly, it was due to the last of the summer heat clinging to the air, duh. Nothing else. She totally wasn’t sad about being run-out of the town she once called home.

The only thing that would solve the sudden negative thoughts was drowning them out with something strong and alcoholic. Making a beeline to the stall advertising artisanal wine, Madisyn requested three bottles — red, white and rosé baby! — leaning against the stall as they made a show of gift wrapping them (as if she wasn’t going to uncork them as soon as she was able to, ala Cameron Diaz in The Holiday) when the woman next to her caught her eye. Madisyn Huang never forgot a face, even if names evaded her. “Hey, hey. You were on the West Coast for a bit, right?”

[theromandaniels]

≈ caffélicious. with @rachelxhan

Perhaps Roman should have really explored why Ophelia was desperate to get him onto the dating scene. She had always enjoyed meddling with his personal life of course, but forcing him into double dates and creating an account on OK Cupid was perhaps a step too far. He had agreed to try it out for a month, though nothing about the women he matched with were quite what he was looking for. Maybe he just had to live with the fact he was picky, and perhaps lower his expectations. 

Yes, that was it. Picky with women. Nothing else.

Rachel had been one of the better matches. Her pictures seemed to convey the age she claimed to be, her grammar in messages wasn’t too horrendous, and their conversations never quite died out despite his bluntness over messages, to which she never seemed to take personal offense to. It had reached the point where he either had to invite her out to meet face to face or end their messaging-based communications, and settled for coffee, unsure if he felt like he really wanted to pursue more than a friendship at this time (he was sure, he didn’t, but her company would be nice regardless). “So, the newspaper, huh? I can’t imagine there’s many big stories to cover if you can meet with me in the middle of the day.” He observed after they collected their drinks from the counter — Americano in his cup — and settled at a free table.

[thephoebeyates]

— word on the street. ft. rachel han ( @rachelxhan ) 

It had taken a few months to get there, but Phoebe finally felt settled. It wasn’t exactly true contentment; the Foster-shaped hole in her heart would be the cause of that until it was fully mended, but apart from that, things seemed good. She had secured an agent, her manuscript was being taken seriously, and Word on the Street was the perfect slice of heaven she could escape into, especially as the weather got colder. The shop was cozy and inviting, unlike the cool, glass open space of The Blue News. No long hours, no fucking managers making her cry. I just want a nice, easy life. What's wrong with that?, she had thought the day she justified not accepting a cushy job at the paper in favor of a sales clerk job at the bookshop. But now, that easy life was finally, finally happening. T

hat said, she did miss seeing some of the staff she worked with now and again.  It was funny, as she thought that, Rachel stepped inside of the shop, and she grinned widely at her entrance. “Hey Rachel! Long time no see! What brings you to Word on the Street?”