I have to apologize for something… it seems OK magazine got a hold of something I meant to send to a different email address and instead of UK Rob FanFiction Contest I sent it to the OK Magazine tips email address. Oops! It seems they’ve mistaken my entry in the One Shot Robsten Fan Fiction contest* as an actual first hand account of you and Kristen together in what I called your “palatial pad” in Vancouver. Boy, you can imagine my embarrassment a having to show you this. As you’ll read you can see where they got their information about Jacuzzi’s and home cooked meals and sing-a-long’s by the fire place. Of course they put their tabloid spin on things but I still feel like you should read it to see where all those details came from.
So here it is:
Inside Our Home
A Robsten One shot for the UK Rob FanFiction Contest
“Alright, thanks just throw it in the bag, I gotta jet!” I told the sales clerk as my blasted cell rang for the 5th time. I knew it was Rob by the “Shaft” ringtone he’d chosen. He was back at the palatial pad we sometimes called home. But really, what’s home when you’re 19 and 23? We were shooting a movie and in an effort to keep us off the streets and out of paparazzi’s waiting cameras the studio rented us both hotel rooms at the Sheraton Wall Centre that could marvel the best the Pocono’s had to offer. I mean where else can you find a jacuzzi shaped like a champagne glass IN a hotel room? Gaudy it most definitely was. Right down to the living room they redecorated for us. All plaid. I guess hotel decorators get their inspiration from gossip magazines and blogs these days.
Read the WHOLE story after the cut
“What do you want?!” I breathed into the offending object just to get it to stop playing that embarrassing music while I was in public. I mean I have the reputation of being super cool to up hold after all!
“Well, glad to hear your voice too sunshine!” Rob said answered sarcastically as I eyed the sales clerk as she shoved the rest of my purchases into the bag. They knew me here at Vancouver’s Wear it Again vintage store so they were used to my impromptu trips to see the latest in flannel and vintage concert tees. They knew that even though I wasn’t around in 1983 I would still be understatedly psyched about a Def Leppard tshirt that I could perfectly knot at my waist.
“Yea, yea, yea. What’s going on?”
“Why don’t you come over to OUR place tonight cause I’m making a home cooked meal!” Rob asked enthusiastically.
“On my way!” I replied ripping the bag out of the sales clerks hand while throwing my hood over my mullet. After all it was raining outside and it took me two weeks of not washing it to get it to this stage. I made a mad dash for the hotel running the whole way with my head ducked down. The paparazzi didn’t seem to care as I ran by with my purchases and straight to the elevator. All I could hear were distant shouts of “Where’s Rob?” Ugh.
She was on her way and all I had left to do was remove the wrappers from our dinner before this night of total ecstasy could begin. What would she think of the poetry I had written for her? Would she enjoy the dinner I was slaving over? Did I brush my teeth today? So many questions ran through my brain as the doorbell to the palatial pad rang.
I opened the door as she brushed by me to get out of the hallway. She was weighed down with a heavy bag from Wear It Again, OUR favorite store for used clothing. My mind raced with the possibilities of what the bag could hold. Gently worn lingerie? A new-old leather jacket for me? Perhaps some tweed? Kristen had seen me eying Edward’s wardrobe on set many times and to be honest I think the feel of the heavy, itchy, grandpa-like fabric really got her going.
“Here let me help you out of that hoodie” I said taking both her shoulders in my hands. My breathing hitched as she slowly removed the sloppy hooded sweat shirt to reveal an oversize men’s XXXL red plaid shirt. She lifted her eyes to look at me from under her lashes. And I froze. Would she let my borrow that shirt? If not, would she know I stole it from her after she passed out on the balcony?
“What are you staring at?!” she asked walking towards the kitchen in search of dinner. “Hmmm something sure smells delicious!” She sniffed the air. “Is that pepperoni?” Her favorite. Of course it was, I wasn’t born yesterday.
“Only, the best for you! None of that three cheese broccoli nonsense! I demanded pepperoni and they found it. Just for you!” And me, but I wasn’t about to tell her that. This was my last box of pepperoni and I don’t just share unless I want something. I haven’t gotten laid in 3 weeks. No more of this cuddling, getting-into-character shit. She was gonna eat my pepperoni and she was gonna like it!
She cocked an eyebrow at me as she stared at the microwave. “I’m pretty sure entering time and pressing start on a microwave does NOT equal home cooked meals but I guess I can let it slide since it’s pepperoni.”
Yup, she loved my pepperoni.
The microwave dinged letting us know our delicious home cooked meal was ready to be eaten. I handed her the Hot Pockets, still in their little cardboard cases (no need to wash dishes later!) and grabbed the bottle of Boone’s Farm I had picked up just for the occasion and led her to the living room where we plopped down on the bearskin rug in front of the fireplace. As I unscrewed the cap on the wine her eyes stared at the wine bottle, hungrily licking her lips. I was a genius! What 19 year old girl doesn’t love some tasty Strawberry Hill wine? Boone’s Farm is an underage girls Kyrptonite. Oh yes, she would be putty in my hands, especially after my next treat.
“You better fill my glass to the top or I’m going to eat my pepperoni AND yours!” She taunted as I almost dropped the glass. I needed to get a hold of myself before I did something rash. Like rip that plaid shirt off of her and run away. But I couldn’t after all we still had to listen to the Rolling Stones, read poetry AND luxuriate in the jacuzzi shaped like a champagne glass.
After we scarfed down our meal of crispy, crunchy, tender flakey crusts I wiped the remaining grease off my hands on the white bearskin rug. She must have thought this was hella sexy because she shook her head at me. OH YES, you just wait!
Luckily my guitar was handy so I grabbed it to begin playing the impromptu set list I had created while waiting for her to get back from the Vintage store.
“I can’t get no satisfaction, I can’t get no girly action
‘Cause I try and I try and I try and I try
I can’t get no, I can’t get no
When I’m ridin’ round the world and I’m doin’ this and I’m signin’ that
And I’m tryin’ to make some girl, who tells me
Baby, better come back maybe next week
‘Cause you see I’m on a losing streak
I can’t get no. Oh, no no no. Hey, hey, hey, that’s what I say…”
“Are you singing Satisfaction by the Rolling Stones? I really can’t tell cause you’re mumbling but WHY?” She asked as she scrunched up her face while looking at her IPhone.
“Um, cause Mick is the man… and well don’t you think the lyrics…um… work well?”
“Work well for what?! This situation? Cause god knows ONE Hot Pocket isn’t going to fill me up. Pass me that Boone’s!”
“Ugh, you act as if we’re already an old married couple! Can’t you enjoy it when I want to give you something of ME instead of drinking?”
I sat there staring at her as she drank Strawberry Hill straight from the bottle. Maybe I should move on to my next tactic!
“How about we jump in the jacuzzi? I’ve got a special treat for you once we’re in there!”
“This special treat better not be like the last time when we played “find the submarine” cause that was NOT a submarine!” Kristen called over her shoulder as she went to change into more appropriate attire.
We both emerged at the same time stopping to stare at each others swim clothes. Her plaid tank top and worn out plaid boxer shorts mirrored my own worn out plaid boxer shorts. It was like we were meant for each other.
As we took our places in the champagne glass shaped jacuzzi I began reciting the special poetry I had written just for Kristen:
Your eyes are red
Your toes are blue
Boone’s is sweet
and you’re my KStew
The room was deathly silent after I poured my heart out in poetry form to her motionless body on the other side of the jacuzzi where she still clung to the Boone’s bottle like it was a lifeline. Her eyes were closed in what seemed like reverence for my skill with the metered rhyme.
“So uh… what do you think?” My heart jumped in my chest as I asked her this question, her answer would make our break our night and my 3 week drought. I waited.
*soft nasally breathing*
*soft nasally breathing*
The bitch was passed out and I was all alone with nothing but an empty bottle of 3 dollar wine and and NO Hot Pockets to drown my sorrows in!
I took in her lifeless form again, now more audibly snoring. This was the perfect chance to steal that shirt she had been wearing today. Who cares if she needs to walk outside tomorrow in front of the paps and has no shirt? I guess she shouldn’t have passed out in the jacuzzi! Sucks to be her I thought as I jumped out of the jacuzzi and ran in search of that beautiful piece of fashion.
*Fade to Black*
So as you can see OK Magazine must have accidentally mistook my beautiful piece of fan fiction for a real life account of yours and Kristen’s life while filming in Vancouver. I guess they didn’t bother to check their sources and facts from an email received from Robstenlovesisforrealsyall@gmail.com I mean, that email couldn’t be speaking anything but truth, right?
I hope you’ll accept my sincere apology and enjoy this piece of fiction in your spare time.
Getting NO satisfaction OR robbie action,
PS I will now be accepting applications for a beta.
*NO dear God I did NOT write a one shot ROBSTEN fanfic NOR did I sent it to OK Magazine. And NO there is not a UK Rob Fanfic contest. This whole thing has been a product of my WAY over active imagination*
What do you think of this story, the OK one! Have they finally stepped over the line? How can they print “blatant lies” and get away with it? Do you want an all plaid living room? I do.
PSSST: Our fav RobPorn creater Zephyersky entered a Jasper FanFic contest along with LTT/LTR pal Pange. See Zeph’s page here. Click on “VOTE NOW” at the top right and then search for “Zephyersky” and “Pange” and vote for them! (3 stories total!) You have to have a fanfic account to vote. GOOD LUCK GALS!