Velvetysage - Are You Going To Scarborough Fair?

for a long moment, penny doesn’t move. she just stares. at the sheer audacity of drew standing there , draped in borrowed clothes that don’t fit , wearing that same infuriating grin — like she hasn’t been missing for two weeks. like she hasn’t left penny to spiral , to wonder, to reach for a silence that never broke. her heart is still hammering against her ribs , the remnants of panic still thick in her bloodstream , fourteen days of unanswered questions pressing down on her like a weight she can’t shake. and then drew starts talking — rambling , deflecting , making jokes about flounder and burner phones , like this is just another one of her reckless disappearances. like penny hasn’t been tearing herself apart over where she was , if she was even alive, and suddenly something inside her snaps. a sharp , humorless laugh punches out of her , brittle at the edges. "are you — are you fucking kidding me ?" her voice is quiet , but there’s something dangerous beneath it , something raw and frayed. two weeks. two weeks of radio silence, of checking her phone every five minutes , of knocking on doors and getting nothing but shrugs , and now she just waltzes in — grinning , joking , like it’s all some game ? penny moves before she even thinks , grabbing the nearest throw pillow and launching it at her. not hard. not enough to hurt. but something — because if she doesn’t , she might actually scream. "you — " she stops , jaw locking , fists curled at her sides. "you absolute fucking — " another sharp inhale , her breath unsteady , her entire body tight with the effort of keeping herself from completely unraveling. "do you have any idea — any fucking idea — what the past two weeks have been like ? you couldn’t have just — texted ? called ? hell , sent a fucking carrier pigeon ?" she’s breathing too fast. she knows it. feels the way her hands are shaking , the way her chest is rising and falling too sharply. she knows she’s letting the panic and frustration bleed through , but she can’t shove it down. not when drew is just sitting there , completely unbothered , sniffing her vanilla candle like she didn’t just disappear without a trace. penny presses the heels of her hands against her eyes , turning on her heel and striding into the kitchen before she does something she won’t recover from. because she knows drew. knows this is her coping mechanism — acting like nothing is wrong , like she hasn’t just put everyone who gives a shit about her through hell. and maybe , once upon a time, penny would’ve let herself be distracted by the theatrics. would’ve let the relief of drew simply being here outweigh the hurt. but she’s seen this routine one too many times to fall for it now. she grips the counter , sucking in slow , steadying breaths. if she says something now , she will regret it. because part of her , beneath all the frustration , wants to burst into tears — because drew is alive , because she’s standing in front of her , because penny doesn’t have to wonder if she’s lost her forever. after a few seconds , she forces herself to move. forces herself to walk back into the room , stopping in the doorway , leaning against the frame like it’s the only thing keeping her upright. her voice is quieter now , but there’s no mistaking the weight behind it. "are you going to tell me what happened," she says , gaze steady , expression unreadable , "or do you just want to pretend everything is fine ? because i may be a good actress, drew, but i don’t think i can do that."

was it odd to say that abandoning her sense of self entirely gave her a new lease on life? plato didn't know shit about throwing his phone into the river. not to mention socrates had never experienced the thrill of pulling off a smooth drug deal on the busy city street. as far as drew was concerned, karl marx could suck the silicone dick that was slickened and stowed in her night stand. everywhere she went, flippant burner phone in hand, the blonde swore she could hear fly like an eagle beating in time with her steps. not a single care in the universe stopping her -- letting her spirit carry her from port to port. was this a mental breakdown of the most epic proportions? perhaps. for now - her metaphorical and quite literal high was impenetrable. and she had the steve miller band and parker to thank for that. when she'd told her roommates she'd abandoned her business with minimal explanation, drew had yet to answer the most critical questions. not even to herself. why? are you doing okay? the queries needed to be avoided. there was no space for concern in her hands-off approach to living. so it was natural to bolt. from her roommates, from penny. the fourth floor apartment hadn't seen her in days. she mostly opted for crashing on parker's couch. it made her hoodlum schedule a continuous affair. it made it easier to abandon any sort of guilt or critical thought about her decisions. but drew had caught wind of penny's concerns since her show stopping disappearance after opening night. the flowers adorned by the blonde at the stage door were the last tulips that drew had touched. and now, as the creative desire bubbled to the surface once more, so did her urge to see penny. she never dropped her key. a silent protest, a grandiose act of love, whatever you wanted to call it -- it was an excuse for drew to silently break in to surprise her. of course. the anxiety riddled star is edging tears, lump in her throat touching drew from where she stands by the front door. and she hears every word. but the eagle doesn't falter. "surprise, shaaaawty." the blonde calls out theatrically as she enters the space. her nomadic wardrobe is likely a testament to her mental state. parker's flannel that wouldn't button over her breasts even with one of those maternal stretch bands, a white bandeau top that has seen better days, a pair of inez's leggings that showcase some tasteful ankle on her too long legs, but still the same electric drew smile. "didn't i tell you? phone in the river? hope you didn't send me a nude because if you did, flounder definitely saw it." she plops down at the counter and sniffs at the lit candle, likely placed there to calm penny's nerves. her nose wrinkles at the soft vanilla scent. "is flounder a girl? like i know sebastian is a jamaican dude. like the cinnamon apple jax guy. but -- flounder? i never really knew. because if he's a bro-fish, he might like totally be into that."

DUA LIPA via Instagram (October 20, 2024)

HANNAH DODD edit .

"  i  bet  you're  not  going  to  believe  me  if  i  say  that  one  of  my  cast  mates  is  a  massive  hockey  fan  ,  right  ?  look  —  ice  hockey  isn't  a  big  deal  in  the  uk.  i'm  intrigued  okay  ?  you  can't  blame  me.  plus  ,  you  always  seem  to  notice  i'm  there  so  it's  not  like  you're  complaining  now  ,  is  it  ?  "

˖ ࣪ . ࿐ ♡ ˚ . ↪ closed for @velvetysage ˖ ࣪ . ࿐ ♡ ˚ .

"i've seen you at practically every game, can't tell if you're a big fan of the game or a stalker at this point."

HANNAH DODD — SAG Awards 2025

geraldine viswanathan via instagram

COOPER KOCH — Calvin Klein by Mert Alas (2025)

♡ → @velvetysage liked this post for a ship moodboard ! ( ft. alec & céleste )

their first meeting

alec wasn’t looking for anything when he walked into halo haus that afternoon. not a trainer or a conversation. he was killing time, stretching his legs between the monotony of meetings and empty social obligations he never had the patience for. he didn't even look around at first. it was just another polished gym to him. another day he wouldn’t remember in a week. and then he saw her. it wasn’t just that she was beautiful ( though, fuck, she was ), but something else. a certain essence in the way she moved. the room seemed to revolve around her instead of the other way around. she had a presence that didn’t ask for attention but sought it anyway. it was like nothing and no one could touch her. maybe that was what got to him, the fact that she didn’t look at people the way they looked at her. he could’ve just grabbed his overpriced smoothie and left, allow the moment pass like any other. but he chose to approach her, a practiced smirk easing onto his lips. the words left his mouth before he even considered the outcome. what’s the harm in a number? but céleste didn’t move. she didn't even look up or give him the reaction most people did. instead, with a fluid detachment that made rejection feel almost sophisticated, she replied, “personal training inquiries go through the front desk.” under any other circumstance, alec would've shrugged it off, and walked away. but on the contrary, he felt a grin tug at his lips. because in a life where doors opened before he even knocked and people tripped over themselves to be noticed, céleste had done neither. she didn’t chase or impress. she was devastatingly unbothered. and that instantly made her the most interesting thing in the room. someone worth remembering.