"'Cause
Crush culture makes me wanna spill my guts out
I know what you're doin', trying to get me to pursue you
Crush culture makes me wanna spill my guts out
Spill my guts out, spill my guts out"
[SEASON ONE-FOUR]
sarah cameron x fem!oc
cover by @h...
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PLEASE DONT BE A GHOST READER! COMMENT AND VOTE! IT HELPS US WRITERS STAY MOTIVATED:)
the reason i always say "please don't be a ghost reader" this isnt just because i want votes, i mean i do, but ive been writing on this app for 3 almost 4 years and it helps me stay motivated because that means people are reading my stuff. and unlike other people, they have so many views on their books and i know my writing isnt the best but i love to write and it just helps me stay motivated. and i know i unpublish and republish my chapters and i get thats really annoying
【 SEASON EPISODE 4PART 3 】
Sarah and Clara had barely set foot off the boat when the sound of hurried footsteps reached their ears. They turned in unison to see a man running after them, shouting something in a language neither of them understood. Without a second thought, Sarah grabbed Clara's hand, pulling her into a sprint. Clara, already laughing at the sheer absurdity of the situation, followed Sarah's lead. Together, they raced down the dock, their feet pounding against the weathered wood as the distant shout of the man faded into the background. Their laughter echoed across the quiet bay, the sound of their carefree sprint blending with the rush of the sea air.
As they reached the end of the dock, Sarah let out a breath of relief and slowed her pace, pulling Clara towards the gate of the small town. They passed through the worn metal gate, feeling the ground beneath their feet shift to solid stone as they entered the town's cobblestone streets. Clara, still catching her breath, smiled at Sarah. "We lost him, didn't we?"
Sarah nodded, a grin spreading across her face. "We're too fast for him." She tugged at Clara's hand, playfully pulling her along. But then Sarah's gaze dropped to their clothes, their disheveled appearance stark against the neat, pristine surroundings of the town. She grimaced. "Oh my God. We're disgusting."
Clara glanced down at herself, then back at Sarah, not missing the dirt smudged across Sarah's shirt or the tousled hair from their chaotic escape. She raised an eyebrow. "What?"
Sarah let out an exaggerated sigh. "We'll never get into the archives looking like this." She motioned to their clothes again, now thoroughly coated in sand and grime from their hurried dash. "I promise you, they won't let us in."
Clara gave her a half-shrug, still laughing. "What's wrong with a little dirt? It's character."
Sarah shot her a pointed look. "You're crazy. But fine, if you want to look like you just crawled out of a swamp, that's on you."
Clara rolled her eyes and smiled, but Sarah could tell she was starting to agree. Without wasting any time, Sarah steered Clara down a narrow alleyway towards a small boutique that had caught her eye. The sign above the door, "Ben Silver," was elegant and understated, and it promised an air of sophistication.
