#also this is coming from someone who desperately didn’t wanna see their tension bc I’m a syd/richie truther through n through

[ex-uallyactive]

you have to actually be BLIND to not see the romantic potential between carmy and sydney i’m so sorry

[hopefullystillatheatrestudent]

this might be a weird thought but the way jensen performs masculinity (and i KNOW it’s a performance cause like, have you SEEN the mockumentary?) is just.... so inherently queer to me lmao

ok. okokokokokok. you asked for this. i have a LOT of thoughts on this. it’s gonna be under a cut because i’m gonna be annoying and psychoanalyse a celebrity i’ve never met(and hope i never do) but trust and believe when i tell you i know what i’m talking about so

you want my opinion? here goes. there is absolutely no way jensen ackles is straight. i hear you, ‘how do you know that he’s bi? that’s invasive and creepy’ but may i counter that point by saying how do you know he’s straight???? why is the default for everyone heterosexual? that’s a toxic mentality to have; ‘oh you don’t know for sure so just treat him like he’s 100% straight just in case’ like....what? heteronormativity drives me wild i’m sorry

and also, um, just to, um, prove my point that this man is decidedly not straight™(i really don’t want to do this but like it has to be said) we KNOW he’s not straight because his d*ck has spoken for itself around misha, like, four times. I HATE SAYING IT!!!!!!! but, um, straight men don’t get aroused by men. ...do i really need to explain myself further???? that’s what i thought(and don’t give me the ‘it could have been for unrelated reasons’ or ‘that wasn’t a boner!’ crap because um good lord yes it was and misha caused every single one so no it wasn’t a coincidence i’m gonna move on before i collapse into myself like a dying star)

anyway, on to the topic at hand which is jensen and his performative masculinity. and it’s a juicy one.

after the unconscious amount of hours i’ve put into watching and subconsciously judging jackles, i have come to the conclusion that like, 90% of how he presents himself and talks and even moves is an act. it’s a facade. it’s a shield. he is not that person. it actually seems exhausting, because he tries to compose himself in this macho, manly, confident and effortlessly cool way, but he’s not that person he desperately wishes he was and wants to be perceived as. he’s on guard every second, even the slightest tilt of his head is like, pre-meditated in some way? if i’m going FULL body language analyst mode, i’ve noticed he has a certain posture he always shifts himself into, and it’s very ‘pursed lips, stoic faced, gruff voiced, square-shoulder, broad and manly’ but, not to be rude jensen, it kind of reads as a little kid imitating the adults he thinks are cool? oof i am going IN huh(it’s out of love though i promise)

he is trying to be this person at every second:

because that’s who he wishes he was, because that’s how he gets validation from the people around him that he looks up to; straight white guys. but to me, who he presents himself to be at conventions is just as much of a performance as this whole eye of the tiger bit is.

oh i should mention i know his body language isn’t naturally like that because how he naturally carries himself is actually pretty flamboyant? like he seriously must be toning himself down HARD

examples:

there’s no tension in his body here as opposed to the eye of the tiger gif. i’d describe it as...generally loose and free? he’s at ease when he moves like that and you can see it.

oh and dude!!! DUDE!!!! how could i not mention the fucking SPECTACLE that is his voice??? jensen. i watched season one. i know where your voice naturally sits. THAT IS NOT WHAT YOU SOUND LIKE. and there have been so many accounts of fans visiting jensen in his trailer and being surprised that his real voice is two octaves higher. again, his performance of masculinity is all encompassing. he can’t even talk normally because, in his mind, that’s a chink in his armour.

and, like you said, anon, this whole smokes-and-mirrors gong show of ‘i am the cool texan man’ is inherently queer. who are you trying to impress??? guys??? that’s pretty gay dude.(btw: gay[honorary])

i feel like i’ve already read this man for filth but i have to keep going bc i have so much to say

ok next thing i’m gonna talk about is how jensen says one thing but everything else about him tells us the exact opposite. another HUGE element of performative masculinity, ONE THAT DEAN WINCHESTER IS A MASTER OF. have i mentioned how dean and jensen are like mirrors of each other when it comes to their sexuality and queer identity??? because it is fascinating how everything i say about jensen also directly applies to dean.

allow me to introduce the grumpy face™. as in, the face he glues on when he’s enjoying doing something but doesn’t want to let anyone know it. and it’s ALWAYS when he’s doing something that could be seen as unmanly in any way. (and when i say manly i mean the ‘ideal’ version of manhood that doesn’t really exist but that jensen seems to be striving for[and dean too])

prime example is this video he did with daneel. the grumpy face™ doesn’t budge the whole time as he’s like,,,,playing an instrument and acting like he doesn’t want to bc i guess that’s too girly??? but i also find this video fascinating because the joke IN it is kind of that they’re both poking fun at him for being so insecure about playing a freaking flute. because, i mean, he gets into it, but he wants you to think he is not.

also this picture.

what is this. i hate them. jensen is smushing himself into misha’s forehead but noooo his face is telling us ‘i hate this’ because CLEARLY he does. also misha’s so happy ew gross

he does that face in photo ops with misha ALL THE TIME but how many times has he also literally asked the con goers if he can also have those photos on his phone too? because of course he actually loves touching misha and is actually a sentimental fool but he tries so hard to hide it and fails so spectacularly.

oh and this. and of COURSE this. actually let’s talk about the hitch kiss for a hot minute because it’s a perfect example of exactly what i’m talking about

(he is so transparent guys. he tries so hard but he’s so obvious.)

1. misha was never supposed to be onstage with him. so it’s a boldface LIE and OBVIOUS PLOY TO GET MISHA TO KISS HIM when he says ‘they’d like us to make out now’. but of course the way he says it is ‘oh my god can you believe what these crazy panel people are making us do haha but i mean what they say goes amirite’. same energy as ‘oh my god did you just dare us to kiss rn???’ ‘....no i didn’t’ ‘oh my god i can’t believe you’d ask that haha but i can’t say no to a dare lol’ it’s the SAME THING

2. the fact that he was in the worst mood before misha came onstage and FAKE KISSING HIM made him feel...SO?? much better? like not just a little better a lot better like, again, that says a lot, because if they weren’t dating he would not be in a better mood if misha kissed his cheek unprompted. bc that cheek kiss wasn’t a joke it was a genuine sign of affection and AHHHH

3. after the kiss happens. you know, the one that jensen actively leans into and is smiling like an idiot the whole time through and is quite clearly having the time of his life during....he says ‘well, that was uncomfortable’. .......my guy. um. i don’t know how to tell you that i do in fact have eyes and you are NOT pulling the fast one you think you are

like i’m so sorry jensen but i have you pegged. it’s literally no use.

god there’s so many instances of him doing this with misha specifically. the whole ‘ew gross lol’ but then everything about him tells us the exact opposite. like this(i hate this. how dare he say ‘he has though, hasn’t he?’ LIKE THAT?????)

so yeah my point with that is he really wants us to think he is one thing when he is the antithesis of what he’s trying to be. he really likes those things that he talks down about, and everything he’s loudly projecting is all to hide how he really feels. he went to a gay bar with daneel, for crying out loud. he wants to play a role in drag. he’s queer and he likes it. pov: you’re jensen ackles train of thought: ‘ok so i really like this thing that people might make fun of me for or call me gay for liking so if i just say ‘lol as if’ and make a grossed-out face they will be FOOLED. i am a genius. hey misha wanna blow on my ear lol i meAN GROSS EW’

i have two more things i want to talk about when it comes to this topic so PLEASE bear with me anon this is why you took so long to answer clearly lmao

ok so we’re now going to go over my favorite hot take of all time. which is ‘how do we know dean’s performing masculinity? because sam isn’t.’ only replace dean with jensen and sam with jared and oh my god do we ever have a case

jared is as STRAIGHT as they come. he is secure in that knowledge. and that’s why he is perfectly comfortable treating misha like this:

and not try to scream ‘i am not enjoying doing this!!!!!!’ at us. because he doesn’t care what we think of his sexuality like jensen does(because he has nothing to hide whereas jensen DOES)

something i found the other day that no one has brought up but i SCREAMED upon finding it is this one clip THAT I CAN’T FIND OH GOD but i promise i’m not making it up. i can’t believe i can’t find it guys it is gold. i need need NEED to talk about it. and if anyone knows what i’m referencing and can apply links in any way i will love you forever but here’s what happens off the top of my head:

ok so i’m a bit too braindead to explain it perfectly but um basically it’s a j2 panel and someone brings up magic mike and i think jared says ‘yeah i didn’t watch it’ and then jensen says ‘all the way through’. stupid joke. whatever. the joke is that jared is gay for watching magic mike.

and then i literally kid you not. jared gets this like ‘jesus christ ok dude? lol’ look on his face and then goes ‘projecting much, mr. ackles?’ and jensen gets a guilty look on his face and walks away. and jared did not say it as a joke. he was being dead pan and earnest. and jensen knew it too, he knew he was projecting. i wish i could show you guys the clip i promise if i ever find it i’ll link it but IS THAT NOT SO DAMNING FOR JENSEN????? like come ON. also proves my point that when you compare how they feel about watching magic mike. jared doesn’t care bc watching it just doesn’t interest him, but he also thinks that just watching it in itself doesn’t make you gay. jensen however.......has a different mindset, clearly.

‘projecting much, mr. ackles?’ is actually a great title for my next and FINAL section(we’re almost there folks) which is how jensen projects his insecurites about his own sexuality and relationship with misha onto misha.

i hope by now we’ve all seen this video of jensen impersonating cas. it is a blatant microaggression on his part. and like obviously homophobic. it’s like in his mind if he makes fun of them for being gay it makes them both less gay somehow??? it’s self-deprecation in a way??? let’s just tell it like it is: that impression was just jensen’s overt internalized homophobia rearing it’s ugly head. he does it a LOT too when it comes to misha.

i mean:

and that whole mess where he’s making fun of misha for being a bottom in their panel in 2016? ‘so you’re saying, like with football terms, there’s a handler and there’s a receiver heheheehe’ jensen you’re not exempt from being gay just because you know football terms lmao

oh and his OTHER impression of misha where he mocks him for...bicycling...because it’s not a manly enough sport??? jensen NO ONE else has ever thought this hard in their lives about what constitutes as masculine enough to be a sport before. that’s all you bud. we don’t find those jokes nearly as funny as you do. you are reaching, sir

the good news is that misha thinks it’s hilarious and knows it’s projecting on jensen’s part and will tease him endlessly for it. many stories come to mind, like that one photo op story where they’re literally dressed in rainbow banners and pride stickers but when misha goes to hold his hand jensen said something like ‘no way’ and then misha stepped back, put his hands on his hips and went ‘that’s the part that’s too gay for you???’ and jensen LOST it

or when that whole underwear thing happened(messy messY MESSY BTW) and then a fan asked a question about what dean and cas would do in rome and misha just said ‘when in rome’ and jensen makes a face like ‘are you serious’ and then misha says ‘you can’t look at me like that anymore, because of what you did!!!!!!’

OH and that whole story about when misha suggested they put jensen in the closet for that cat video....yeah um

and then when jensen was asked to do bisexual finger guns for a photo op and the con goer said ‘he looks bisexual here’ and misha literally said ‘oh he definitely looks bisexual here. i would say he’s actually closer to the gay side of the spectrum’ so..um...make with that as you will

OH MY GOD i’m finally done. wow. WOW. that was a lot. i hope i’ve blown your minds. ty anon i really wanted to talk about this and i hope you’re happy with the outcome!!!!!!

[waynedunlaptheorgandonor]

caryl first date headcanon

i wrote a stream of consciousness caryl headcanon i was thinking about when i couldn’t sleep last night. no i did not proofread it. yes it is rambling nonsense. yes you can read it if you want: 

so i genuinely don’t know what the timeline for canon is gonna be now that we got bottle episodes, s11, and the spin-off, but just for a moment let us pretend that it happens during the bottle episodes and then we have all of s11 to watch caryl trying to figure out how to navigate a relationship with each other

cuz like, they gon fuck right away, bc things are gonna get heated, and tensions are gonna be high, and they’re gonna snap like a trip wire and fucking ravish each other, that’s without question

so the first little while of their relationship will be mostly getting intimately familiar with each other’s bodies down to every last freckle

but once they’ve simmered down some they’re gonna need to address the “oh shit, wait, how does a relationship work?” problem

cue: caryl’s first date

it’ll take place in commonwealth, and i’ve never read the comics and i know jack all about it outside of what i’ve skimmed, but we’re gonna ignore that for the sake of my fun post

i know enough about it to know that there are definitely places to have a date

daryl knows this too, tho he doesn’t rly think about it right away. at first he’s more confused and sort of standoffish about the whole place, bc he was always a forest-dweller even before the apocalypse, so seeing this new metropolis-like place after years of living like a gd pioneer is gonna throw him way off kilter

right up until he’s chillin’ with judith and she’s talking about how she’s excited to see her first concert, and they have restaurants, and things she’s only ever read about, and then out of nowhere she’ll pull out, “are you gonna take aunt carol on a date?” 

and daryl will stare at her

and she’ll be like “rosita was telling me about how father gabriel took her on a real date and how nice it was. you should do that for aunt carol” 

and daryl will stare at her

and then will hastily change the subject (she’ll see right through him, ofc, but she’ll let it slide)

but the thought will stick with him, and suddenly he’s looking at the schedule of upcoming concerts and plays and wondering if carol would care about any of it. does she like shakespeare? the most experience he would have had with shakespeare was ripping out a couple pages of his school copy of romeo and juliet to use to light some firewood

but maybe she’s into it???

eventually he’ll reach the inevitable conclusion that the only way this is going to work is if he actually asks her to go on a date with him, which should be easy, right? like, he was ball’s deep inside her last night and told her good morning by putting his face between his legs, so surely asking someone on a date is simple

it will not be simple

bc yeah, they fuck all the time, and obviously they’re head-over-heels in love with each other, they’re each other’s soulmates, yada yada, but also daryl’s extremely emotionally repressed and has the romance skills of a fifteen year old having his mom drive him and his date to his first homecoming dance, only worse bc he never even went to any school dances

but after Dwelling On It for ages he’ll finally get fed up with himself and will vow to stop being a pussy. he’ll ask her before the day’s over or he’ll shoot a bolt into his own foot, ok, no more excuses

so the whole day he’s jittery af

you’d think he’s trying to pop the question, but all he wants to do is go eat dinner with carol and then watch some people recite lines from a play written hundreds of years ago, like, what is his Deal(tm)??? 

(his deal is, ofc, that he waited so long to have her, and now every new thing feels tenuous, bc he’d rather die than lose her, and sure she knows him better than anyone, but never in this context, and plus her last dude basically bled passion and romance no matter how obnoxious, and what if she realizes just how fucking clueless he is and decides she doesn’t really want to be with a middle-aged man who still gets tongue-tied around a pretty girl?)

(but also she deserves a gd date, alright? she deserves it, and so he’s going to give it to her, even if going face-to-face with a walker horde is less intimidating)

carol notices something’s off with him right away, but she waits until after dinner, when the kids have gone to their rooms and the two of them are alone washing dishes to ask, “hey, so what the fuck?” 

and daryl will be like, k, it’s now or never

and he will 100% make a fool of himself by stumbling alllll over his words, like, “nothin’s wrong, i’m fine, everythin’s real fine, i was just wonderin’ if mb you’d wanna, y’know, i dunno, they got all these shows and shit that we ain’t had in forever and i didn’t know if mb you’d wanna go see one? and mb get some food? with me, i mean. like, together. like i’d take you there and we could do those things, like a, you know, a date. but it’s cool if not, no worries, i get it if it’s not your thing, but i just thought i’d ask, but no, you’re right, it’s stupid, forget i said anythin’, hey look at the time, well i’m beat, gonna go to sleep now, goodbye”

and carol will go, “hold up”

and she’ll take daryl by the wrist before he can flee the room (bc he definitely intends to), and pulls him close and kisses him all sweet, and she’s gotta stand on her tiptoes to do it bc she’s in a pair of knit socks and he’s got his boots on so there’s more of a height difference than usual, and after she’s successfully managed to keep daryl from falling straight into a panic spiral, she’ll whisper, “i’d love to, let’s go this weekend”

and then she’ll just turn back to doing dishes without another word on the matter 

(bc, as previously stated, she knows daryl better than anyone, and she knows exactly what all his insecurities are and how much it must have taken him to ask her that, and so she’s not gonna harp on it or tease him)

(daryl recognizes this and loves her desperately for it)

the actual date is way easier than daryl expected

bc he spent all this time hyping it up, but when it comes right down to it, he just gets to spend a night with carol where they don’t have the kids to worry about, or any council business, and they just get to enjoy each other’s company

she even dressed up a little for him, which was unnecessary, but he most certainly appreciates it and can’t wait to tear the outfit off of her later

(it does make him regret the fact that he’s only had one pair of pants for the past ten years, but she doesn’t seem to mind)

they end up seeing a shakespeare play

daryl understands like 2% at best, but carol holds his hand and rests her head on his shoulder the whole time, and apparently it’s a comedy bc she laughs a lot, and that alone makes it worth it

they fuck like crazy when they get home, obviously

but it’s different than it had been previously, bc now their “togetherness” seems more solidified

like, they’re officially a “couple” now

like the type of couple that gets a babysitter for the night so they can go to the apocalyptic version of dinner and a movie together and then have sex and then fall asleep right afterwards bc they’re domestic af

and like, deep down both of them knows that this isn’t the life that they’re meant to live in forever, a la commonwealth/domestic bliss, and he wasn’t kidding when he told her new mexico was still out there, and he can feel a shift coming sooner rather than later

but he also knows they’ll be together when it happens, and they’ll figure out their own version of “date night” when they’re out exploring

but for now he’s content to do it the old fashioned way, though

when she falls asleep on his chest that night he rubs her back and kisses the top of her head, and he’s already planning their next night out

he might pick a show with modern english, though

but it’s not required

just so long as they’re together

the end 

[fonulyn]

fonulyn’s 2020 in fics

this is kind of exciting since in 2020 I did get a lot writing done, and it marks the second year in a row that I’m able to actually make one of these posts after that horrible not good at all terrible disastrous three and a half years when I wrote absolutely nothing. so it’s a triumph to get another one of these up! personal victory haha.

in total, in 2020 I wrote 148 fics, ranging from like 200 words to 34k (idk if those short things can be called fics but i just did). by pairing, there’s

13 of Joe/Nicky

58 of Piers/Leon

56 of Chris/Leon

(1 with Piers/Leon and Chris/Leon)

5 of the ot3 (Chris/Leon/Piers)

11 of Krauser/Leon

3 of Wesker/Chris (lmao still can’t believe this)

1 of Chris/Leon/Krauser

so. in retrospect, i did okay. 

it’s over 300 thousand words and I am kind of. surprised. and that is not counting the approximately 50k of wips i’m ignoring :’D

I’d also like to take a second to thank everyone who has ever sent me nice messages, commented on the fics, left reblogs or kudos, and the like. you’re what kept me going, I wouldn’t have gotten even half as much done otherwise.

without further ado, links to all of the fics under the cut! they’re organized by pairing, and the links take you to tumblr posts (bc I’m lazy) and a lot of them have a link in the post that takes you to ao3. (also can you see I put ~~so much~~ effort into naming the tumblr ficlets :’D feel free to laugh at me)

Joe/Nicky

a dog by any other name | 1,5k | The one wherein they end up owning a dog.

within the heart a flame of desires | 5,0k | Nicolo watches Yusuf have sex with others, desperately wishing he was with him instead. Until things change. He much prefers having Yusuf all for himself.

the world will wait | 2,4k | The one wherein Joe takes a lot of naps and the whole team gets to relax.

catch this | 650w | Every time Joe gets distracted (by Nicky), Andy tries to take him by surprise.

nobody’s perfect | 1,9k | Even immortal warriors have their weaknesses, Nile learns. Those just aren’t what she expected.

only in these arms | 780w | Nicky has trouble sleeping alone. Andy is a decent substitute, but only when Joe returns so does Nicky’s ability to get a decent night’s rest.

(please don’t explain) that time in Malta | 580w | Nile doesn’t think at first it would even be possible for Joe to be embarrassed. By anything. Until one evening, they talk about Malta.

cool it down boys | 400w | Andy gets no sleep. She gets revenge, though.

cowboy, baby | 340w | Nicky has the fashion sense of a sack of flour, and he is fine with that.

that day is not today | 4,9k | They struggle through the whole lab-experience. It isn’t the time yet to forgive Booker.

tea, soup and tlc | 2k | The one wherein Joe is not sick. At all. Nope. He isn't.

two drinks too many | 770w | Nicky is a little drunk. Joe loves him anyway.

safe haven | 3,9k | The one wherein everyone gets quality cuddles from Joe.

Piers/Leon

it was you that I found | 23,4k | Leon doesn’t really do relationships. Not because he doesn’t want to, but because he always seems to be so bad at them. Of course entirely by accident he manages to build one without even realizing it. 

unexpected visitor | 690w | Piers is forced on bed-rest. At least Leon stops by.

got me all tied up (never let me go) | 4,0k | Piers doesn’t like suits. Leon loves Piers in a suit.

not so subtle | 210w | “Soo, were you checking me out all night, or was that just my imagination?” Leon asks suddenly, Piers chokes on his drink in surprise.

nighttime fools | 4,8k | Piers and Leon get arrested for public indecency. It’s not their fault, honest.

piers isn’t sick, really, he isn’t (he is) | 670w | “Oh, hi,” Piers said immediately, a goofy smile slipping onto his face. Man, he was happy to see Leon. So happy to see him.  

so you’ve met Xena | 620w | “Xena?” Leon turned to look at Piers, decidedly unimpressed. “You named your dog after the Warrior Princess?“

you’re cute, you know | 680w | Piers took the opportunity the second their gazes met. He grinned, as charmingly as he possibly managed, and said “You’re cute, you know that?“

kiss the nightmares away | 470w | Sleepily Piers blinked, trying to make his eyes work properly. He squinted at the digital clock on the bedside, and its harsh red numbers that told him it was 3:30, and confusedly he turned to frown at Leon. “Why aren’t you sleeping?“

smooth talking, Nivans, very smooth | 1,4k | Piers can not control what comes out of his mouth.

dream a little (dirty) dream of me | 1,3k | Piers wakes Leon up. That's it.

your shirt is my shirt | 950w | With a sigh Piers grabbed the only shirt available that wasn’t battery operated and obnoxious. It was Leon’s, so old that the print had faded completely, leaving only faint outlines behind. And when Piers pulled it on he grumbled again, realizing how tight it was.

here for you | 620w | Leon can’t sleep, but somehow Piers makes his anxieties bleed away. 

grand plans | 260w | “Are you seriously going to wear that?”

new puppy | 430w | “Hey there little guy.” Leon bent down to pick up the little puppy, straightening again to hold it against his chest. His hands looked almost comically large as the dog was so tiny, and carefully he cradled it close.

a little bit funny | 850w | So maybe Piers hadn’t slept properly in days, and the sleep deprivation was making him a little hysterical, but he didn’t even remember when a stupid comedy would’ve made him laugh so much.

for now our time is here | 4,4k | When Chris had told them to wait up and left them alone for a while, this probably wasn’t what he’d been expecting, but the second he’d closed the door behind himself the tension that had been brewing between Leon and Piers had snapped like a cord.

wanting too much | 1,1k | “Fucking hell, never do that to me again,“ Leon huffed out, clearly relieved beyond anything.

the prettiest agent with the prettiest hair | 1,2k | Piers stress-braids. Leon doesn't mind. And besides, Piers always undoes the braids whenever he's done with them. Until one night he forgets.

you can be the air that i breathe | 1,0k |  It wasn’t the first time Piers got punched in the face by a gigantic BOW so hard that the hit sent him flying. It was, however, the first time he was sent careening off a bridge and into the river below. And it was, definitely, the first time Leon saved his life.  

before I found you | 890w | The second Piers realized that the spikes covering the monster actually came off, and it was able to shoot them towards its attackers, it was already too late for him to react.

you don’t need to stay | 950w | Piers did his best to take care of Leon.  And as much as Leon appreciated it, he didn’t want to be a goddamn nuisance.

need me, baby, just a little stronger tonight | 2,1k | Leon really has to practice perfecting his poker face. At least he gets what he wants in the end.

be my valentine | 920w | “Are you sure?“ Piers asked for the tenth time, frowning down at the bar of Fazer blue chocolate. “I still think it’s… not a lot?”

you're the world that I wanna discover | 7,5k | The one wherein they buy a house, fall even more in love, and Leon reaches a breaking point.

call me (tell me what you feel) | 1,7k | Leon is stuck at the airport. At least he gets a nice phone call with Piers.

incentive to stay alive | 1,0k |  "Hey, Nivans, wake up,” he tried, but there was no answer, and he couldn’t help but let the worry in his voice. “Piers. Don’t you dare die on me. Chris would kill me if I let anything happen to his best sniper.”

blanket hog Leon | 880w | Grumbling, Piers turned around, and as he’d expected Leon was cozily wrapped in at least four blankets, leaving nothing for Piers, who was currently freezing his ass off.

I give you all I am | 2,0k | “Leon?” Piers approached in quick steps, watching recognition flicker in Leon’s eyes as he lowered his own weapon too. Leon was slumped against the wall, hunched over and holding his side, and there was something feverish about his eyes. Yet as soon as he realized it was Piers he gave a shaky grin, even if that was all he managed.

why are the gorgeous ones always taken | 810w | Piers blinked his eyes open slowly, expression scrunched up, and it took a long moment before he managed to actually focus his gaze on Leon’s face. When he did, a smile immediately bloomed on his face, and he even tilted his head a little. “Have I died and gone to heaven?” he croaked out, his voice rough from lack of use.

still intact | 1,1k | It took a week before the level of painkillers was correct and Piers woke up with a gasp instead of a scream. And the first thing he asked was for someone to kill him.

of guns and ...guns | 270w | Leon likes the way Piers handles his rifle. There’s drool involved.

always fashionable | 540w | Apparently having a crush on the well-dressed, professional Leon translated into being absolutely fucking in love with the sleep-mussed and squinty Leon.

misplaced phones and revelations | 660w | Chris finds Piers’ phone. Which turns out to be Leon’s phone. The two turn out to be dating. Chris feels kind of blind.

yee-haw! | 1,0k | Leon rides Piers. Wearing a cowboy hat.

you’re cute when you’re angry | 620w | When he’s stressed, Piers washes the dishes. Angrily.  

want to drink (with) you | 1,1k | Piers is an embarrassing drunk. Leon loves him anyway. 

and each one of us is a path somewhere | 22,2k | Piers gets thrown twenty years back in time. Into Raccoon City, 1998. He’d heard about what Leon went through that night, but he never thought he’d have to actually experience it himself. Together with bright eyed rookie Leon.

hold me close | 560w | Leon falls asleep against Piers’ shoulder. 

goatee man | 890w | Piers thinks growing a beard might make him look more manly. 

promises kept | 2,9k | Leon finds out Piers isn't dead after all. He's just locked up in a BSAA research facility with no one allowed in to visit.

stay with me tonight (stay until the end of life) | 2,2k | Leon doesn’t know I’m contacting you, but a fair warning, because I’m worried. He was found unconscious on the bathroom floor at 10AM. They took him to the hospital, but he checked himself out. Look after him, okay?  

4am | 760w | “What can I say,” Piers grinned against Leon’s neck, “I was dreaming of you.” He had no reservations about moving his hips, letting Leon feel just how nice the dream had been.

caffeinated | 550w | Someone gives Piers coffee. Leon knows what to do with that excess energy.

and i'm you and you're me | 7,0k | The one wherein Leon and Piers accidentally swap bodies.

girls’ day in bed | 780w | Piers and Leon wake up one morning with boobs and other assorted lady parts. It’s a fun day. (Spoiler alert: they have a lot of sex.)

worlds apart | 3,2k | Krauser kidnaps Piers to lure Leon to him. (feat. past Krauser/Leon)

not again | 530w | Watching Piers’ mutation brings Leon some very unfortunate flashbacks. (feat. past Krauser/Leon)

gorgeous | 300w | Piers calls Leon gorgeous.

the most comfortable pillow | 350w | Leon falls asleep with his head on Piers’ lap.

beautiful | 840w | Even after losing an arm and ruining half of his face, Piers is the most beautiful thing to Leon.

as seen in adult films | 580w | Piers doesn’t know one damn thing about dishwashers. He volunteers to fix one anyway.

never letting go | 260w | Leon is goddamn comfortable right here. He isn’t going to move a single inch.

nose kisses | 390w | Piers is cute when he’s cranky. Just ask Leon.

no other half could ever make me whole | 6,3k | The one wherein they get a scare and there's a proposal.

the luxury of being held | 690w | The fabric of Piers’ hoodie is the perfect place to hide. (feat. Theo’s amazing art)

just one step from heaven, one step from paradise | 2,7k | The one wherein Piers makes sure Leon doesn’t freeze, and they enjoy their vacation.

all is fair in war, love and Mario Kart | 600w | Piers sucks at Mario Kart.

Chris/Leon

if i never see all my dreams come true, the one that mattered the most was you | 5,9k |  Chris enlists Leon’s help on a mission as a clever ruse to make the man take a break he so obviously needs. 

and I don't want to know how slow the time must flow | 11,1k | Chris and Leon try to fight their way out of a castle and feelings take over.

you are my heart, you are my home | 3,2k | Chris is sick, and he’s being extra dramatic about it.

from the gates of longing | 5,5k | Chris volunteers to take Leon home, but ends up getting a lot more than he bargained for.

how to accidentally get adopted - a guide by Piers Nivans | 2,3k | Piers accidentally keeps calling Chris dad, and Chris and Leon sort of unofficially adopt him.

right here by your side | 1,9k | When Chris shows up to check up on Leon, four days into his self-imposed flu-exile, at first Leon wants to just throw him out. But then it turns into a relationship-building moment and suddenly he can’t mind all that much.

about time | 1,8k | Leon is freezing. Chris warms him up.

yet you'll lose yourself in me | 3,3k | The one wherein Chris is generously proportioned and Leon kind of loves it. (whispers: size kink)

beyond tomorrow | 1,7k | Leon ends up in the hospital after a mission, Chris hurries to see if he’s okay. Claire is already there.

look at those heart-eyes | 180w | Quickly Chris shook his head, reluctantly pulling his attention away from Leon.

there’s a cat in the sink | 220w | “There’s a cat in the sink, and we don’t own a cat.”

from the future | 300w | It’s 1998 and Leon comes face to face with himself, from 2017.

surprise redfield | 250w | “Don’t worry,“ Chris says, nonchalantly as if it’s an everyday occurrence that he’s standing in Leon’s kitchen.

need this feeling to last (there's no denying) | 2,4k | “Why don’t you fuck me yourself, you coward!“

something solid, something good | 520w | Chris was so warm, and that together with all the glorious skin-on-skin contact made Leon happily sink back into the embrace.

come closer | 520w | Leon is done with Chris being so careful around him.  

your arms around me | 690w | Chris woke up cold and alone.  

a needed break | 440w | Sometimes Chris got so single-mindedly stuck on a task that he forgot everything around himself.

the iron maiden | 820w | Suddenly it was hard to breathe, like he couldn’t fill his lungs with oxygen no matter how much he tried, to the point that his vision started to get blurry. 

robin hood: chris in tights | 480w | Chris’ face was twisted into a theatrical grimace as he tugged a little on the green tights we was wearing. They were like painted on and although he didn’t really have body issues in general, he couldn’t help but feel self-conscious about it.

luckless romance | 4,0k | Leon and Chris turn a drunken argument into something better. (Please note: The link takes you to the last part of six.) 

take my hand | 920w | The worst part, by far, is not seeing anything. There are sounds, people talking like he isn’t even in the room, machines beeping and doors opening, quick busy steps against the floor.

let me take you to the edge of the stars and back again | 3,0k | Chris takes his sweet, sweet time before he gives Leon what he wants.

I’m going to seduce you | 1,1k | Jesus Christ, they’d had sex. Leon groaned again, this time less because of the headache and more because he felt so unbearably dumb. He’d probably had the best sex of his life, and he couldn’t remember it.

a little help | 430w | Those fucking idiots, Claire thought for the millionth time, as she watched her brother give the biggest dumbest heart eyes at Leon, who was blissfully oblivious about everything going on around him.

the way to anyone’s heart (the answer is food, good food)  | 2,4k | Chris asks Leon to teach him how to cook. (Spoiler: Leon doesn't know how.)

oh the horror | 270w | “I seriously don’t understand why you want to watch this shit,” Leon groaned, pressing his face into Chris’ chest.

jealousy | 670w | Chris swallowed hard, downed the last of his beer, and took the leap. “I’m jealous okay.”

twist me up | 510w | Sure Chris had always known that Leon was flexible. Sure he had seen him even do these weird-ass yoga poses more than once. There was nothing new to it.

meet the parents | 600w | Leon brings Chris home for Christmas.

precious cargo | 930w | Chris lugs Leon around like luggage.

it's always been you | 870w  | The hardest thing for Leon was when someone he cared about was in danger but there was nothing he could do about it. And then Chris fell into a ravine.

come away with me (to another world) | 2,0k | Leon finally gets a vacation.

first time sucker | 930w | “I don’t know, because it’s fun?” Leon said. “I promise you, you’re missing out.”

read my scars | 1,9k | Chris learns about Leon's scars.

battered and bruised | 650w | Ignoring the bruises and scrapes he had, Chris turned around and sprinted towards Leon, gritting his teeth against the strain moving put on his side.

a different kind of proposal | 500w | “If you keep fucking me this good,“ he breathed out, unsure if Chris even heard the words, “I’ll have to marry you.“

welcome home | 370w | The door had barely fallen shut behind Chris when Leon was in his personal space, grabbing him by the lapels of the trench coat he was wearing so he could pull him in close for a kiss.

I’d always choose you | 280w | Ada was something they didn’t talk about. When someone, anyone, brought her up Leon clammed up and changed the subject. And Chris had tried to be understanding, had tried to be patient, had tried his very best to respect Leon’s boundaries with this. But Chris was only human.

fuck or die | 1,7k | Chris gets hit by a weird plant, and his hard-on just will not go down. Until Leon takes matters into his hands.

i need a hug | 470w | “I think,“ Leon sighed, but then it was like all fight bled from him and he slumped a little forward. “I need a hug.“

oh no there’s only one bed | 990w | “Don’t be ridiculous. It’s just one night. I’m sure you’ve slept with worse persons than me.”

the butt that became a pillow | 420w | Chris falls asleep on Leon.

like father like son | 2,8k | Leon finds out he has a son.

monster magnet | 1,1k | Leon didn’t know when it had become something he recognized so easily. When had it become so normal for mutated creatures to look at him with such unadulterated lust.

please be okay | 620w | Leon faints from sheer exhaustion. 

like father like... grandson? | 4,1k | Liam proposes to a girl but ends up with Piers anyway. Chris and Leon are the friendly neighborhood grandpas. Their grandson is adorable, and Leon thinks he takes after him. Obviously. (feat. Piers/OMC)

black lace | 790w | Chris gets to come home to Leon in thigh high black lacy stockings and matching lingerie, instantly sending Chris’ brains into an overdrive.

at least let me help | 790w | Leon opens the door an inch, Chris uses the given opportunity to slam it wide open. Metaphorically speaking.

bridal style | 200w | Leon refuses the medical check up. So Chris carries him.

dance with me | 1,0k | Wedding planning with two schmoopy idiots in love.

drunken cravings | 480w | Chris and Leon are drunk, hungry, and incapable of cooking.

blow me | 650w | Chris gets his brains sucked out through his dick.

Claire knows best | 610w | Chris tries to set Leon up with Claire. Then Claire does set Leon up with Chris.

chase the demons away | 940w | Chris struggles with nightmares, Leon is there to hold him through them.

dance me to the end of love | 550w | Leon struggles to learn to dance.

Piers/Leon, Chris/Leon

fate changed (we keep loving as if the story isn't over yet) | 34,3k | In hindsight, Leon knew the second he opened the door and saw Chris standing there, dressed in his service uniform, mouth pinched to a grim line and unable to meet Leon’s gaze straight. There was only one logical reason for it, only one way to explain why he was standing there like he would rather be anywhere else, and Leon almost slammed the door right in his face. --  Or the one wherein no one really knows how to handle their grief, but somehow life goes on anyway. (I’m still so proud of this one negl)

Chris/Leon/Krauser

hearts beating fast (let's make this moment last) | 5,7k | Chris gets invited in for a threesome. The clever thing would’ve been to refuse, knowing his unrequited, helpless feelings. But then again, he’s just a man.

OT3

double the fun | 3,1k | Truthfully, Leon hadn’t thought his day could get this much better. Everything had gone wrong from the second he’d woken up and he’d already written the day off entirely, until the moment Chris had looked him dead in the eye and asked “How do you feel about two at once?”

of cuddles and blanket forts | 620w | Piers and Leon build a blanket fort. Chris would think they’re idiots, but they might actually be kind of brilliant.

hair straightener or waffle iron? | 310w | Chris and Piers break Leon’s hair straightener.

the last piece of the puzzle | 2,7k | The one wherein two becomes three.

not alone | 2,3k | Completely on accident, Piers and Chris happen to be there to save Leon from a tight spot. Cuddles ensue.

Krauser/Leon

drive me crazy (your eyes made me crave for this) | 2,3k | It was the best sex Krauser had ever had in his life. That’s why he kept coming back to Leon, kept saying ‘yes’ every single time the man as much as hinted that he might be up for meeting. He was getting off, and he was enjoying every second of it, and that was the extent of it. There certainly weren’t any feelings involved. None. None at all. 

enjoying the view | 200w | Krauser likes ass-watching.

carry me to bed | 440w | Slowly Leon was coming back to his senses. Sweat was cooling on his skin, the hard surface of the table underneath him starting to feel uncomfortable.  

and I lied that we would be fine | 1,1k | Leon knows he isn’t supposed to be doing this. There’s a vague recollection of something more important, something he should be focusing on, but the vast majority of his world has narrowed down onto the slick slide of their bodies, on the cheap scratchy sheets on his skin, on the sound of Krauser’s voice in his ear, and he can’t bring himself to care.

yet never enough | 1,9k | Krauser likes mirrors.

of wanting | 400w | Leon’s laughter echoed in the room as Krauser pinned him against the wall, before shutting him up with a ravenous kiss.

better with you | 590w | Despite knowing Krauser had his back, Leon was genuinely surprised when the man sat down right next to him instead of telling him to suck it up and get moving.

breakfast | 530w | Lately things had slowly begun to shift. And Leon wasn’t sure yet what was going on. Or how he felt about it.

kill me now | 900w | It was more than clear how much Krauser enjoyed their frantic attempts to kill one another, and Leon’s traitorous body shivered in response, the memory of times long gone returning like no time had passed at all.

lust that I've already spilled | 1,4k | “C’mon, Leon,” Krauser taunted, grinning as widened his stance. “This cock isn’t gonna suck itself.”

will you just look at me | 650w | Krauser refuses to do feelings.

Wesker/Chris

I am the light that shall lead you to darkness | 1,8k | In all honesty, Chris wasn’t entirely sure how he’d ended up here: a panting mess, bent over a massive wooden table with Wesker holding him down laughably easily. 

the light to drown in darkness | 2,0k | Wesker craves Chris. So Wesker takes Chris.

love-hate-(obsession?) | 470w | Wesker is a lovesick fool. If he wasn’t also a homicidal maniac, Jill would almost feel sorry for him.

[byhaeseong]

━♡ guess the 23 YEAR OLD SEPTEMBER baby just arrived to dallyeog! it makes sense, because MOON HAESEONG is just as MELANCHOLIC as the month of SEPTEMBER. wait, why do they remind me of NAM YOONSOO? beyond that, they seemed CHARMING & KEEN upon first glance. i heard someone say they’re sort of TEMPERAMENTAL & DESTRUCTIVE though. i hope they get acquainted here in APARTMENT 9 / FLOOR 4 ; HE seems to have a lot going on with HIS job as AN ELECTRICIAN.

okay,,, let’s try this again. i’m chey (21, she/her, gmt-5) & i’m here to introduce you to dallyeog’s september baby  —  moon haeseong. i personally view september as a month of transition/change, so that’s how i’ve chosen to portray haeseong. he’s been through a lot so far and the leaves of his life are beginning to change color and fall off; hopefully, he’s headed towards a brighter spring, but he still has a long way to go. you can view his (unfinished) stats page here, his pinterest board here and learn more about him below the cut!

personality.

virgo   /   the virgin.   guarded, critical, defensive, impulsive, tense, intelligent, kind-hearted, bold, hard worker, reliable, playful. haeseong values privacy over anything else. he can’t stand overbearing types who feel the need to know and see everything, but at the same time, he can be like that, too. but hearing that he’s hypocritical rarely surprises anyone  —  he has a tendency to criticize certain behaviors in others, but excuses the same behaviors in himself because he feels like he’s justified with how he acts. it’s difficult to get close to him and ever more difficult to get him to open up about himself, as he always seems to be on guard, like there’s a threat lying in wait. nonetheless, he’s a kind-hearted guy underneath all that tension, criticism and anger and it shows in small ways, such as how he goes out of his way to help his neighbors and always sticks to his promises. once you’ve made a friend of him, he’s honest, funny and playful. he likes to laugh just as much as he likes to make others laugh.

history.

he was born into a well-off family, but his parents were the overbearing types that he absolutely can’t stand, so he often felt suffocated. he hated how controlling they were towards him and how manipulative they were towards people who worked with/for them, so he ended up running away from home at sixteen and dropping out of school.

parents begged him to come back, tried to bribe him and then threatened to cut off his card  —  he didn’t listen to any of it, didn’t really care, and once he started getting into legal trouble a couple months later, they disowned him.

legal trouble as in destruction of public property, vandalism, underage drinking, displays of violence. has never done anything that could get him in long-term trouble, but has stayed in trouble p much non-stop since 2013.

has problems controlling his anger, which is what usually leads to him doing things he shouldn’t. all you gotta do is look at him wrong and he’ll smash the windshield of your car. i would not suggest testing this..... </3

anyway! he lied a lot to get part-time jobs, learned how to be independent and how to take care of himself quickly. pretty much always got fired for getting into legal trouble and his bosses just didn’t wanna deal with....... that.

he’s FINALLY! finally trying to move past all of that, though. moved in to the dallyeog apts with the intention of starting fresh in a place where no one knows him (hopefully,,,,) and got his current job as an electrician, which he needs to stay out of trouble if he wants to keep. he def wants to keep it because it pays a lot more than the night shift at a convenience store u know

MAYBE he’s in legal trouble rn though...... MAYBE he’s on probation and has to do community service every fuckin weekend if he doesn’t wanna go to jail again.....

who can say for sure? ask him about it and he’ll get snappy, so there’s no telling.

other.

i’m a big fan of associating characters with songs, so some that i associate with haeseong are:  landfill by daughter, shaylee, shanel by hot mulligan, i think your nose is bleeding by the front bottoms, cotton candy by yungblud, i know places by taylor swift, thank me later by onlychild, sps by hot mulligan, randy, i am the liquor by free throw, start again by dinosaur pile-up and ready for more by sea girls.

despite having problems with anger and being guarded, he’s by no means a recluse. in fact, he loves to be around people & almost always seems to be in a relationship, although they hardly ever last. 

in regards to his neighbors, though... he prob does try to keep his distance from them just bc he knows how easy it is to get pissed off at a neighbor and he does NOT wanna do anything to ruin his rep.

if you have any electrical issues in your apartment, feel free to ask him to take a look. he’ll p much fix anything for free if he knows how. kind of out of the goodness of his heart, kind of just bc he needs people to like him and ~trust him~ in case he gets into trouble again and needs to be bailed out. mf has no family who would come and no close friends.

he’s also 187cm so if you need to reach something, he’s ur guy.

probably ruining his apartment by smoking cigarettes inside but please don’t tell the landlord.

genuinely wants to be good. wants to be good so so desperately, doesn’t know why tf he has to be so destructive and cause trouble all the time. kinda hates himself for it on the dl but we don’t talk about that

[cakesunflower]

Catharsis [Local Musician!Calum] One Shot

Catharsis—The purging or release of emotional tensions, especially through kinds of art or music.

A/N: this is 19.3k of local musician!Calum and i hope you guys enjoy it! i loved writing this, bc it’s, in my opinion, softer than most of what i’ve written. also, the lovely moodboard is by my even lovelier friend @softforcal!!! happy reading, babies

There was a local artist in Annette’s favorite cafe, a musician, who’d captured her attention from the first strum of his guitar and the captivating voice he sang with the second she heard him. Blue’s was known for its dedication to giving the local talent a platform, paying them to sing for customers if they had what it took. And this guy, this brown haired, tattooed singer who alternated between performing covers and originals, had captured the hearts of all of the regulars—Annette included. It was because of him that she’d sometimes be late to work or classes if he happened to be playing, completely enraptured by his performance and his smooth rasp sounding over the dull chatter of customers. Not that anyone really talked over the sound of him—Calum Hood was just too captivating to ignore.

Annette was never sure what exactly it was that had her stopping in her tracks every time she heard him sing—if it was the deep lilt of his voice that managed to carry every note he meant to hit, or if it was the lyrics he sang when he introduced a song he wrote himself. Songs about love, loss, healing, and everything in between that hit a little too close to home every time. Honestly—Annette began giving more thought to what Calum must have gone through to be able to write such deeply personal songs that seemed to resonate with everyone than she did to the coursework she should have been focusing on.  

Maybe she was being creepy. Maybe she should’ve stopped lingering in the back of the cafe after she got her order of either a strawberry iced tea or just coffee to lean against the wall and watch Calum strum a guitar and sing—her personal favorites were original songs he’d written like Never Be, Everything I Didn’t Say, The Girl Who Cried Wolf, and Moving Along and his covers of Stay by Post Malone and Blink-182’s I Miss You—and just moseyed on along to go to class or her shift at the store instead of looking like some stalker. But Annette couldn’t help it—she was a fan. Granted, she was no expert in the music industry, but Annette liked what she listened to, and there was no doubt in her mind that Calum was insanely talented. She knew everyone who came to Blue’s who was lucky enough to witness him perform, and the management that loved the patrons he was drawing in, would think the same thing.

There were often moments where she wished she grew the confidence in saying something to him—just a mere compliment of how good he was or something. It wasn’t like he was a world known musician, maybe a kind comment from a stranger would’ve made him smile, at the very least. But there was something about Calum that made him appear like the rockstar that he was probably meant to be. With his unruly dark curls, domineering height, tattooed skin, and sharp eyes that took in every face in the crowd, not to mention the overwhelming artistry that seemed to just ooze out of his pores, Calum Hood was a stature Annette wasn’t entirely sure she was prepared to approach. Sure, she’d seen people compliment him after he got off the stage with his guitar being gripped by ring clad fingers, had gotten glimpses of almost reserved smiles she felt were too quiet for someone who owned such loud talent, but she knew she wasn’t ready to actually face him herself.

So she listened and admired from afar, even though she desperately yearned to do so much more.

“You look like you got an hour’s worth of sleep last night.” Annette huffed as she shot Luke a look, settling down in her seat once he took his backpack off and dropped it on the floor so she could sit. Apparently a few days into the semester and some students thought it was okay to steal her unofficial-official seat.

Annette leaned back against the chair once she had her laptop in front of her and had taken off her favorite red framed and lensed sunglasses and Beats, letting out a drawn out sigh that carried the weight of her exhaustion. “Because I think I did,” she responded tiredly, the silvery tone she normally spoke in coming out as a heavy drawl. “Work didn’t let out until ten and I had a paper due at midnight and then Poe got sick and—” Annette cut herself off with a complaining groan, though she kept the sound quiet as people filtered into the classroom, sinking into her chair. “I’m ready to drop dead, honestly.”

“At least it’s the weekend, right?” Luke responded with an encouraging raise of his eyebrows, knowing Annette only worked the weekdays as he tapped his fingers against the sleek top of the desk. When she crossed her arms over her chest, closing her eyes and nodding, Luke offered a smile. “Couple of my friends are throwing a party in the East Village tonight. Bring whoever you want, yeah? It’ll be fun.”

Opening her eyes, Annette looked at her blue eyed friend, smiling at his offer as she modestly replied, “I wouldn’t wanna intrude—”

Luke snorted out a laugh, shooting her a look as their professor entered the room. “You’re not intruding if I’m inviting you. It’ll be great—there’s a karaoke machine.”

At that, the tattooed girl sputtered with her eyebrows shooting up as she instantly shook her head. “I don’t sing.”

He rolled his eyes, lifting his hands to gather up his blonde curls and pull them back into a bun, the too hot temperature in the classroom making even his barely shoulder length hair impossible to not tie back. “Then you can watch the rest of us act like idiots.” Raising his eyebrows he asked, “You in?”

Annette thought about it for a moment; she had planned to curl up in bed with Poe at her side and her laptop on so she could get some writing done, having barely any time for it with work and classes already kicking her ass. But, honestly, she wasn’t entirely inspired or motivated to actually sit and bust out a few words; maybe a party and being around people would help with that. She was always looking for new inspiration to hit, so maybe this would be good. She’d been in a bit of a rut lately, always ending up staring at a blank page or not knowing how to continue with what she already had. It was starting to get frustrating; stepping away sounded like the way to go.

So she smiled at Luke and nodded, “I’m in,” before sending a quick text to her roommate-slash-cousin Colin to recruit him for tonight. If anyone was willing to accompany her to a party, it was him.

When Annette reached for her plastic cup of strawberry iced tea, sipping the drink through the straw, Luke’s eyes dropped to the cup before humming, “I love Blue’s. They’ve got some great talent.”

She grinned, eyes dropping to the cup that said the restaurant’s name in script and the color of its namesake, as she played with the clear straw. Calum’s face flashed through her mind, the sound of his voice singing through her ears as she responded in absent thought, “I know.”

As the class settled, Luke propped his elbow on his desk and leaned his cheek against his palm, quirking his eyebrow as he asked, “You’ve got a favorite?”

Annette bit the inside of her lower lip as their professor pulled up the PowerPoint for today’s lecture. Oh, she definitely did have a favorite.

*****

“Hey, come inside for a sec.” Luke’s voice pulled Annette from her conversation with his friend Ashton, his friend Michael’s girlfriend Crystal, and Colin. The four of them were on the balcony of Ashton’s apartment, a few other people lingering about as the music playing from inside flowed outside to where they stood. Annette had only gotten to the party about twenty minutes ago, and had already met most of Luke’s friends, including his girlfriend Sierra, and so far she was enjoying herself as a refreshing September breeze tickled her skin. And she was enjoying the tequila, too. She looked at Luke, who was in the doorway of the balcony with a drink in his hand. His eyes met Annette’s as he added, “There’s someone I want you to meet.”

“Uh, yeah, sure,” Annette responded slowly, unsurely, as she excused herself from the little group she was among. She walked towards Luke, who stepped back into the apartment to let her inside as she held her half empty glass of a margarita, raising an eyebrow at her tall friend. “Who’re we meeting?”

“A good friend of mine,” Luke smiled as they maneuvered their way through the living room, heading towards the kitchen. There were many people around, not as suffocating as a bustling house party that Annette was used to as everyone enjoyed each other’s company, danced to the music that was playing, though not entirely resembling a rambunctious frat house. Annette liked this better. Shooting her a dazzling, dimpled grin, Luke added reassuringly, “You’ll love him.”

Her curious expression never washed away as she nodded along, letting him lead her towards the kitchen. They stepped up towards the center island, which was decorated with a nice spread of cups and bottles of various kinds of alcohols and mixers, and stopped in front of a guy with his back turned towards them as he fixed himself a drink. His broad leather jacket covered back hindered Annette from seeing what he was making, glancing at Luke who smiled.

“This is Calum—Cal, this is my friend, Annette,” the blonde introduced, gesturing between the two people, and upon hearing his name, the man in front of them turned around, but it was long before Annette saw his face that she realized who he was. Right when Luke had said his name, realization clicked in Annette’s mind as she recognized the back of the guy’s head of short curls, now that he had been named.

Brown eyes met Annette’s bluish-brown and suddenly she found her heart in her throat because she’d never been this close to him before. Never had she been given the opportunity to look at his dark eyes, always standing at the other side of the cafe to merely listen and watch him play. But it was no surprise that the brown of his eyes, so dark that they almost melted into the pupil, was just as bewitching as the sound of his voice as she felt her throat dry when she looked into them. Annette had known Calum was tall as he towered in front of her, though his height was not entirely as domineering as Luke’s—she doubted anyone’s was—yet still she felt small in his presence.

Whoever invented the phrase tall, dark and handsome probably pictured Calum in mind.

His lips quirked up, a polite smile lifting his cheeks as he gazed at her. Annette could feel her body flush even though he wasn’t even doing anything. “Nice to meet you,” Calum spoke, his familiar voice just as smooth without a microphone amplifying the hint of a rasp in which he spoke with. He’d been lifting his cup as he spoke, taking a sip once he was finished and Annette noticed how his eyebrows furrowed subtly as he continued to look at her. Lowering his cup, lips glistening from his drink, Calum thoughtfully remarked, “I think I’ve seen you ’round before.”

Oh, her heart had found residency in her throat. He recognized her, and no matter how vague his recollection may be, the mere acknowledgment that she was a familiar face to him was exciting. Annette wasn’t entirely sure if it was because she was pathetically enamored with a guy who wasn’t even a celebrity, though he felt like one to her, or if it was because of how ridiculously attractive he was. Maybe because he was just so talented and actually being able to speak to him was ridiculous to her. Maybe it was all of it.

“Uh, at Blue’s, maybe?” Annette offered, pretending as though she had no idea where he could’ve possibly seen her before, knowing full well that’s exactly where. The way Calum blinked in realization was too adorable.

“Annette’s seen a bunch of your performances, dude,” Luke chimed in, a knowing tone lilting the smile in his voice and it wasn’t until Annette glanced at him, saw the glint in his blue eyes, did it click in her mind what he was doing. She couldn’t even help the way her eyes narrowed at him, though Luke was smart enough to keep his gaze purposefully locked on Calum.

Still, the need for damage control was prominent, and as Annette forced herself to drag her glare away from Luke and wipe it off by the time her eyes met Calum’s, she managed to say, “Just a few.” Nobody had to know she was downplaying the fact that she watched as many of his performances as she could. Coming off as a stalker wasn’t the kind of first impression Annette wanted to give off—not that she even knew there’d be an impression to give off in the first place. Damn it, Luke. Was he trying to embarrass her? Free hand nervously sliding into the back pocket of her shorts, Annette found herself adding truthfully, “You’re really good.”

Calum nodded, the smallest of smiles upturning his pressed together lips, and Annette couldn’t help but feeling as though he was forcing himself to do so. Like he appreciated the compliment, but it also didn’t mean much to him. “Appreciate it,” he responded, because he had to, because it was etiquette, and Annette felt something uncomfortable stir in the pit of her stomach. Uncomfortable, embarrassed, and, frankly, affronted. Though she wasn’t too sure she had the right to feel that last one. Calum’s eyes shifted over her head, looking at something behind her as he raised unexpressed eyebrows and his cup as well, using a finger to point at something as he added quickly, “Excuse me, there’s—I’m being called over.”

He walked around her and while Annette knew that it was probably nothing personal against her—they didn’t know each other for it to be—she still felt her skin flush with an embarrassed and mildly offended heat of being brushed off like that. Her lips pressed together, staring at the spot Calum had stood in, wondering if she was even allowed to feel this way because Calum was only someone she enjoyed listening to at Blue’s. He didn’t owe her a conversation or anything. Yet the offense of his less than polite behavior, no matter how brief the interaction, still had her stomach twisting uncomfortably. And then it would cycle into her reprimanding herself for being so sensitive.

Fuck. Why couldn’t she just figure out and agree on what she was feeling?

“Shit—Sorry about him.” Luke’s apology pulled Annette out of her thoughts, and she looked up at the friend she’d only recently made to see Luke frowning over in whatever direction Calum had walked off in. He looked down at her blue eyes meeting her slightly darker ones, the disappointment clear in his irises as he let out a breath. “He’s normally not like that, I swear. I don’t know what’s up with him.”

Annette gave a dismissive shake of her head, offering Luke what she hoped came off as a reassuring smile. Because she had a feeling Luke knew exactly what was going on with his friend, but he didn’t owe her an explanation. Just like Calum didn’t owe her a conversation; maybe Annette was just being overly sensitive for no reason. “Never meet your heroes, huh?” she said jokingly, and she half meant it. Calum wasn’t her hero—that just sounded ridiculous and overdramatic. He was just some guy who played at her local cafe, that’s all. Still, this wasn’t how she’d imagined their first meeting to go—not that she really thought she’d actually get the chance to talk to him.  

Luke let out an airy chuckle, and Annette could tell he felt just as miffed and even slightly embarrassed about that brief interaction as she did. But it was whatever. Not a big deal. “Come on, let me get you a refill,” Luke said after glancing at her nearly finished drink, and she grasped onto that change of topic with both hands and stepped towards the countertop full of drinks.

As he made Annette her drink of choice of a Malibu, she noted the purse of his lips and a small smile quirked at her lips. “It’s not a big deal, Luke,” she told him truthfully. Sure, Calum basically walking away wasn’t what she’d thought would happen, but what could you do? Annette wasn’t one to hold grudges or hold onto any negative emotions for too long. Life was too short to be bothered by something for too long.

Luke glanced at her from where he stood on the other side of the counter, a whole head and a half taller than the girl next to him making her own drink, and shot Annette a small smile. “So much for first impressions, huh?”

*****

“Oh, there’s Annette.” Calum glanced up from his laptop from where he was doing his composition homework, gaze landing on Luke sitting across from him at their table in Blue’s. But his blonde friend was looking off to his right and Calum followed his gaze, eyes landing on the mention girl.

She stood on line to order, her red Beats deafening her to the world around her as she kept herself busy on her phone. For a moment, Calum found himself wondering how he’d never seen her around before; she was gorgeous, with thick blonde hair that curled at the bottom, a couple of tattoos inking the skin of her left arm, and a smile he’d gotten to see the other night at Ashton’s party before he’d abruptly left the conversation. Something Luke had reprimanded him on after the fact.

Calum watched her as she took a step forward on the line, adjusting her headphones before returning her attention to her phone. He looked away as well, brown eyes meeting Luke’s blue ones, blinking at the expectant expression on his friend’s face. “I think you should apologize to her.”

Eyebrows scrunching upwards, Calum scoffed as he leaned back in his seat and asked, “What for?”

Luke shot him a pointed look, aware that he didn’t have to answer that question because Calum knew the answer. His interaction with Annette had been quite brief all because Calum hadn’t really wanted to engage in a conversation. It hadn’t been anything personal against her; Calum had just wanted to stick to those he knew, be around his friends who already knew him well enough to know if he acted cold, it wasn’t their fault. It was just the mood he was in. That day hadn’t been the best, and after Luke introduced him to Annette, Calum had spent the rest of the party escaped up onto the roof, with the only thing keeping him company being his cigarettes.

“Listen, man,” Luke spoke up before Calum could say anything, letting out a sigh and crossing his arms on the table. He looked at him with an almost hopeful expression. “I wouldn’t care if it was anyone else, but Annette’s my friend, alright? And when she told me you were her, like, favorite musician here I thought it’d be cool if you two met. So when you brushed her off it just—it didn’t leave a good impression, you know?”

Pursing his lips, Calum took a breath at Luke’s words. The knowledge of him being someone Annette genuinely enjoyed listening to actually did make him feel like a bit of an asshole for the way he’d just walked away from her. Though, to be fair, if he’d stuck around then their interaction may have gone worse.

Just wrong timing, Calum figured. He always appreciated when people at Blue’s, or anyone really, told him they enjoyed listening to him perform. It gave him the push to continue on doing so, to come to Blue’s whenever he could and get up on the small stage and sing his songs and covers for the patrons. Calum figured he’d probably still do it if he wasn’t getting paid; the money was just a bonus on top of the positive feedback he received.

Yeah. He was kind of a jerk for brushing off someone who’d done nothing except for compliment him.

With Luke’s gaze burning into him, Calum let out a heavy breath of, “For fuck’s sake,” before pushing back his chair and standing up. He ignored the happy smile on Luke’s face as he made his way around the spread out tables, figuring the sooner he apologized to Annette, the sooner Luke would get off his back.

He got to where Annette was standing just as it was her turn to order, and Calum worked quickly as he pulled out his wallet and just as the cashier, Rick, told Annette the total, Calum announced his presence by offering his card and saying, “It’s on me.”

Annette blinked at him, startled, too surprised to object at the sudden offer as Rick, obviously knowing who Calum was, took the card and completed the transaction. Once Calum’s card was returned, he put it back in his wallet and shoved the leather accessory back in the pocket of his pants, gaze finally sliding over to Annette who was staring at him in bewilderment.

Her lips, pink and glossy, parted. “You—” she began, only to cut herself off as she glanced over her shoulder and stepped to the side, Calum following suit, to let the next customer place their order. Calum followed Annette to stand at the end of the counter where her order would be placed, watching as she took her headphones off and let them hang around her neck as she looked up at him. “You didn’t have to do that.”

Calum shrugged, hands shoved into the pockets of his bomber jacket as he told her, “Consider it a peace offering. I hadn’t given the best of impressions at the party.”

He watched as Annette rolled her lips into her mouth, tapping her nails against the back of her phone as she considered his words. Her gaze, then, went around Calum’s friend to look at something behind him, and he noted the subtle quirk at one corner of her mouth as she lifted her chain. “Is the peace offering your idea or Luke’s?”

The musician pursed his lips, knowing she was valid in asking that question. What was more was that she didn’t make it sound rude, just genuine curiosity as her gaze met Calum’s once more, the questioning clear in the way she raised an eyebrow. Pressing his lips together, Calum let out a quick breath through his nose before answering her truthfully, “It was Luke’s idea that I come over. The drink really is on me.” Realizing he hadn’t actually done what Luke had asked for him, Calum added, “But I am sorry for acting the way I did.”

To his surprise, Annette twisted her lips to the side before giving a shrug. “You don’t have to apologize, honestly, though I appreciate it. It’s not a big deal—definitely not something to feel bad about.”

For a moment, Calum kept his gaze on her, eyes twitching ever so slightly to narrow as he considered Annette, trying to see if she genuinely meant her words or was just saying them to be nice. He wasn’t going to lie—he kind of agreed with her. It wasn’t a big deal, and while he was sorry for dismissing her the way he had and while he could’ve been nicer, it was too short of an interaction for him to feel an immense amount of guilt for. Sure, their first meeting was only cut short because of Calum himself, but wasn’t he allowed bad days? He’d only come to the party because his best friend was throwing it, and it made Calum feel less like a loser to have the reason of wanting to have fun so he could drink, and he really hadn’t been in the mood to meet new people and entertain them. What was so wrong about that?

Unlike Luke, Annette’s answer seemed to be absolutely nothing.

Maybe he got lucky with such a forgiving person.

Before Calum could say anything, Rick had called out Annette’s name and she received her iced coffee, turning to look at Calum with an appreciative smile as she held up the clear cup. “Thanks for the caffeine.” Her smile was sweet and still Calum felt something uncomfortable twist his stomach as she added, “I’ve got class. I’ll uh,” Annette paused, eyes darting before she looked at him once more, “see you around.”

She gave a nod before stepping away, fixing her headphones with one hand as she turned around and walked to the door, ignoring the way Calum’s gaze burned into her back. The frown involuntarily pulled his eyebrows together once she left, feeling a bit unsatisfied over an interaction he hadn’t really wanted to partake in the first place. He hadn’t really wanted to apologize, but there had been a part of Calum that felt a bit badly about their initial meeting, so he listened to Luke and now. . . It kind of felt as though Annette didn’t really care enough.

The tables seemed to have turned and it was unsettling.

*****

“This is a cute idea,” Annette hummed as she entered Blue’s after Sierra, Colin and Luke right behind them. She’d never come to the cafe during the nighttime, eyes taking in the place that looked transformed, unfamiliar than to what it looked like during the day. There were blue string lights lining the edges where the walls and ceiling met, providing the only light in the cafe save for the white spotlights on the stage. It was more crowded than normal, a pleasant buzz of chatter in the air as well as the occasional whir of the blender behind the counter as the employees made the drinks on order.

Apparently Blue’s, along with paying local artists to perform at their cafe during the day, had a showcase kind of thing every other month—which Annette had been oblivious to until Luke brought it up a few days back. Blue’s had all the artists they paid come together for one night every other month and perform for the patrons and would get paid extra, and sometimes there would be people who worked at record labels and scouts always looking for new talent in attendance, which Annette thought was pretty cool and a good opportunity for exposure.

“I’m surprised you haven’t come to one of these before,” Luke said to her as they walked in, him standing taller than everyone else as his eyes darted around in hopes to find the friends they were here to meet.

Annette huffed, a bit miffed at her own ignorance of this kind of event. She loved watching all of the musicians Blue’s employed, so being able to watch them all in one night sounded so great and she’d been missing out on it. Next to her, Colin snickered. “You’d think being a groupie for all the performers you’d know about this.”

That invited a round of laughter from Luke and Sierra, and Annette made a protesting sound before elbowing her cousin’s side, though it didn’t erase the all too amused smirk from his face. People around them moved, either talking to others or trying to find a table, and Sierra suddenly spoke up, “There they are.”

She started moving, the rest of them following after her as she led them to a table where they spotted Calum, Ashton, Michael and their girlfriends. They’d joined two tables together, enough to fit all nine of them, and greetings were thrown about as the four of them reached the others. Annette settled down on the chair next to Ashton after he gave her a friendly side-hug as Luke spoke up, “You ready, man?”

Annette’s gaze drifted to Calum, who sat on one end of the table, furthest from her as he offered a nod. He looked at ease, comfortable in a black and white Elvis shirt with the neckline lined by his chain necklace, hands resting on his lap beneath the table. Unsurprisingly, he looked good, Annette instantly noticed; she’d offered him a brief greeting when they’d arrived—nothing against him, truthfully, but because she figured that’s what he’d want.

When he apologized to her the other day, Annette knew it was Luke’s doing—a fact she’d flicked him off for the next time they had class together. To be fair, Calum had looked a bit miffed for his off-mood when they’d met, and the more Annette had thought about it after, the more she realized she had no reason to actually be embarrassed or anything. People were allowed bad days, they were allowed to turn down conversations if they weren’t feeling up for it, especially if it was with a stranger. It hadn’t been the most pleasant of first meetings, but it wasn’t something Annette couldn’t get over. She’d learned, over the years, what things were worth lamenting over and what were small enough to let go. Her first meeting with Calum had been the latter.

Still, him coming up to her to apologize to her had been kind of unexpected. But then she figured out Luke had been the one to push Calum to do it, and while Calum hadn’t delivered a half hearted apology, Annette could tell he wasn’t a hundred percent keen on doing it. And, in some way, him being forced to talk to her a second time was more embarrassing than the first time. She kind of hated her ability to read people so clearly up close. If the action had an off switch, Annette would keep it taped.

So, naturally, when she joined the group—after Luke’s inspired begging for her to come along—she’d greeted Calum with a quick and friendly smile before settling on the stool. No more forced interactions this time around.

“Yeah,” Calum responded to Luke’s question, leaning forward enough to prop his elbows up on the low table, linking his ring clad fingers in front of him, the metal of his chain bracelet hitting the wooden table as he rested his hands down. With a shrug and a small, brief smile he added, “’S not a big deal.”

It was a modest response, Annette noticed, which only reminded her of how comfortable Calum probably was on a stage, even a small one at some cafe chain in New York. She’d certainly witnessed his ease when she caught a performance, but to actually be within his company right before he went on stage was a side she never thought she’d be privy to, and was taking in intently. In the presence of his friends, Annette could see the relaxation of Calum’s broad shoulders, dark eyes almost gentle as he listened to his friends chatter around him. He didn’t look on edge like he had the night of the party, eyes darting and fingers around his cup tight; right now, it was easy to pick up on the air of calmness that surrounded Calum like a bubble.

“Are you performing anything new?” Michael questioned, sitting directly opposite of Annette.

Letting out a breath, Calum subtly raised an eyebrow as he responded, “I’d have to have something new written to perform it.” With a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders, Calum added, “Think I’m gonna go with San Francisco.”

Before she could help it, Annette chimed in, “That’s a good one.”

She pressed her lips together after the comment slipped, though it was an honest one. Annette had heard Calum perform that song a while back, thought the lyrics and guitar and his voice were lovely when he played it, and the prospect of listening to it again was exciting. Except she hadn’t really meant to make herself known, her words drawing Calum’s attention towards her as his brown eyes met her bluish ones, like he hadn’t expected her to say anything, either. Annette fiddled with her thumbs under the table, forcing her closed mouth to lift into the smallest of smiles at Calum as a way of appeasing his intense stare.

But Calum offered a small smile, a real one, as he responded with a simple, “Thanks.”

Soon enough, the small exhibition started, and Blue’s fell silent as the first performer of the night got up on stage. A couple of them were familiar faces for Annette, having seen them during the occasions where she came by and Calum wasn’t playing, but there were also a few she hadn’t ever seen before. Everyone was pretty good, had their own style and genre of music that they worked into the welcoming environment of Blue’s, and Annette found herself swaying gently to every person’s song or ballad.

And then it was Calum’s turn to go up, being introduced warmly and familiarly by the manager as a household name, and their table’s cheers were the loudest as he picked up his guitar and headed towards the stage, returning Luke’s fist bump as he made his way up. Annette shifted in her seat, as if physically preparing herself to listen to Calum perform a song she’s heard before. She felt as though her eagerness and excitement was radiating off of her, the sensation familiar as it was what she experienced whenever she came to pick up some coffee before work or class and Calum was at Blue’s, right up on the stage like he was right now.

The entirety of Blue’s was dark, save for the blue lights for the ambiance, and the bright lights on Calum as he settled on the stool in front of the microphone, his sleek guitar on his lap. Annette’s eyes were glued on him, much like everyone else’s, but unlike the rest of them, she was taking in every detail her eyes would allow her to. She observed the way his tongue poked out to swipe his bottom lip, rolling it into his mouth as he made sure the microphone was leveled. The bright lights shone against his skin, glinting against the chains he wore, and Calum needed a second to adjust his eyes to the beams and Annette wondered if he could see the faces waiting for him as his gaze swept over in front of him.

With his left hand holding the neck of the guitar on his lap, Calum offered a close mouthed, humbled smile. “Evenin’, everyone,” he started, his voice amplified by the microphone as the deep and gentle rasp of his voice resounded. “I’m Calum and, uh, tonight I’m gonna play an original called San Francisco.” Annette watched his right hand move into the pocket of his pants, pulling out a guitar pick as he offered another quick smile. “Hope you like it.”

Calum started playing the chords to the song and Annette took in a quiet breath as the familiar tune reached her ears. Then Calum leaned towards the microphone, lips parting as he began singing lyrics that he’d written, and Annette wondered if she was the only one feeling goosebumps rise on her skin at the sound of his smooth, rich voice resounding around the cafe. Unlike the other times Annette has watched Calum perform at Blue’s, it was utterly silent as everyone’s attention was on him as opposed to when he played during regular business hours and there was a quiet buzz of chatter.

Now, though, everyone was listening to him, their focus solely on him as his ring clad fingers effortlessly played the guitar, and Annette was completely entranced as she watched him, lips parting absently as she listened. The emotion Calum sang with made his performance all the more enchanting, and not for the first time did Annette wonder what experience Calum went through to write a song like this—something she wondered every time she heard him perform an original song.

Annette was creative in her own right, could make up stories and characters and create a whole world out of them, but writing a song wasn’t something she could be able to do. And she was always left in awe when she listened to the songs Calum chose to share, many of them about love and then losing that love, and it often ached Annette’s heart when she listened to them. The pain he delicately and beautifully described in his songs was almost familiar to Annette, having faced loss in her life before, and she often found herself wishing Calum hadn’t had to deal with something like that. Which was ridiculous, because she didn’t know him, and life wasn’t that simple. That didn’t stop Annette from wishing it was.

Next to her, she could feel Ashton lightly drumming along to Calum’s song with his hands slapping against his thighs under the table, head subtly bopping to the music. Although she didn’t want to take her eyes off of Calum, Annette still glanced around, took in the way everyone in the room was hooked on Calum and his music, and she felt a smile tug at her lips. She didn’t know him, but she was proud.

*****

“What are you drinking?”

Annette looked up at Calum once she heard him, patiently waiting to get the bartender’s attention, and he watched the way she blinked at him once before raising her eyebrows gently. Then, with a small smile, she asked, “Are you apologizing for something?”

Pressing the tip of his tongue to the back of his bottom teeth, Calum let out an airy chuckle, knowing she was referring to when he bought her that iced coffee as a way of making up for his behavior at the party. “No,” Calum told her truthfully, left elbow resting against the bar top as he faced the shorter blonde girl. “Just, uh, tryin’ to be nice, I guess.”

Calum had no reason not to be nice to Annette, and since she was basically Luke’s new best friend, Calum knew he couldn’t be an asshole to her without reason. She’d never given him a reason to act the way he did, and she really was a nice girl from what he could tell. Calum had seen her during his performance earlier tonight, had seen the way her eyes seemed to be glued to her in unabashed awe, and it only made him further understand that she genuinely did enjoy his music.

Just because he was miserable more than half the time, didn’t give him the right to treat others like that.

He saw her smile widen just a bit at her words, eyes flickering to the row of bottles behind the bar before telling Calum, “Rum and Coke.”

Flagging the bartender down, Calum relayed her order and added in his own. They were at a bar a couple of blocks away from Blue’s, the group of them shifting over after the performances were over around ten at night. The weekend permitted them to go out, though Calum didn’t plan on staying too late.

“So be honest.” He dragged Annette’s attention once more, and Calum could just barely see the hint of dark blue that lined the outer of her otherwise brown irises. In that moment, he absently decided she had the most interesting eyes he’d ever seen. “Did you think I was an asshole when we first met?”

“I—what?” The startled laugh that Annette released upon hearing Calum’s question wasn’t entirely expected, her eyebrows shooting up as she leaned back a bit. But he kept looking at her, raising his own eyebrows to let her know that he was, frankly, asking a genuine question, because he wouldn’t be surprised if she did. When Annette realized how serious he was, the smile on her face faltered a bit as she shook her head. “No, I didn’t. That’s just—that would be an extreme reaction, Calum. I’m not that sensitive.”

He bit the inside of his cheek, finger absently prodding at the bartop, nail scraping against a crack on it. “But I did, like, make you feel bad, didn’t I? To some extent?”

Annette looked at him, and Calum tried to remain neutral and unaffected by the subtle narrowing of her eyes as she took him apart with her gaze. She was trying to figure him out and Calum couldn’t find it in himself to be annoyed because she was doing it so. . . Kindly. Her gaze was gentle, welcoming, like she didn’t want to alarm him or put him off as she tried to figure him out. Calum wondered what kind of magical fucking powers Annette possessed to keep him feeling comfortable even as her mind picked him apart. Maybe it was the glittering of her eyes, or the soft way she looked at him. Because even with her thick blonde hair and long lashes and tattoos, she still reminded Calum of soft.

“Are you trying to make yourself feel guilty about it again?” Annette asked, and this time Calum did feel himself freeze at her words. Had it really been that easy for her to figure him out? Or was she just generally that good at reading people? She gazed up at him, earnest and true. “Because I told you, Calum, it wasn’t a big deal. It happened and it’s over. Honestly—it’s not a big deal.” With an easy, light laugh, Annette added, “Don’t make it seem like you, like, bitched me out or something. It’s all good.”

She was terribly easy going, Calum realized, as the bartender handed them their drinks. Not the type to hold a grudge, it seemed.

Honestly, Calum wasn’t entirely sure why he was bringing it up again, wasn’t sure where the lingering guilt was coming from—or if guilt was too strong of a word. Maybe he just still felt bad? Especially after he saw how much Annette seemed to enjoy his single song performance at Blue’s. Through the bright spotlights at the cafe, Calum had been able to make out the faces of his friends once his eyes had adjusted, and while their encouraging smiles had been expected and welcome, Calum had also took in the way Annette had been watching him.

It unexpectedly warmed him. He knew it wasn’t the heat from the lights.

So, yeah. He suddenly found himself wanting to start a clean slate. Even if he started off thinking he didn’t care.

It was something about her eyes. Calum was certain of it.

“Come on,” Annette cut through his thoughts, lifting up her glass with an easy going smile lifting her pink lips. “To friends of friends.”

At that, Calum let out a quiet chuckle, quirking an eyebrow as the bar buzzed around them. The music was loud and people were chattering all over, but Calum’s eyes were on Annette’s smiling ones. “Think we can cut the middle man out here,” he told her with a small smile of his own. Annette raised her eyebrows, soft smile ever present, as Calum raised his glass as well, clinking it with hers as he corrected, “To being friends.”

*****

When Annette received her drink and turned around to head towards the door, she stopped when her eyes landed on the familiar face sitting at a table near the windows. It wasn’t hard because Calum was already looking at her, laptop in front of him but gaze on her as he raised his hand in a single wave, and Annette felt a smile tug at her lips.

She made her way over to him, because now she could, now they were friends. Ever since the event here at Blue’s and their conversation at the bar after, a friendship had been established between the two of them, discarding their first meeting all together in hopes of moving forward. He leaned forward in his chair as she approached him, arms folded and a small smile tilted his lips once she got to him.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Annette greeted with a teasing grin, standing beside the round table.

Calum chuckled quietly, lifting his hand and tilting his head to let his fingers mess up his slightly unruly curls. “You headed to class?” he questioned, looking up at her with dark brown eyes that reminded Annette too much of chocolate.

“No,” she responded with a shake of her head. “I just finished a shift, actually, and I needed my after-work caffeine.”

He quirked an eyebrow as he asked, “So you’ve got nowhere to be?” Her smile returned at the knowing tone of his voice, felt something pathetically flutter in the pit of her stomach as she hummed out a no with a shake of her head and he gestured to the empty seat across from him. As she settled down, Calum’s eyes took in her drink visible through the transparent cup, and he raised his eyebrows before letting out an amused scoff. “That’s the. . . Froofiest drink I’ve ever seen.”

Annette let out a protesting, mock-insulted laugh as she defended, “Hey, don’t make fun of my drink.” She took a sip through the straw, watching Calum watch her with scrunched eyebrows raised and a bemused expression on his face. “It’s a passion iced tea. With blackberries.”

Calum, still, was not still not impressed. “It’s purple,” he deadpanned.

With a scoff, Annette said with a small pout, “Don’t make fun of my froo-froo drink.” Jutting her chin at his cup, she narrowed her eyes challengingly and mocked, “What about you? Black coffee is boring.”

Calum wasn’t offended or apologetic. “It’s normal. No froo-froo.”

Annette’s smile returned, unable to keep the teasing lilt in her voice. “Everyone needs a little froo-froo in their life.” She couldn’t hope to keep a serious expression on her face, the laughter bubbling past. Annette’s chest tightened happily when she managed to get a laugh out of him in response. A breathy, raspy sound that was short yet did show his amusement with the conversation. She wondered what he sounded like when he laughed with everything in him.

Their conversation moved on as Calum asked her about work, the noise of the cafe melting into the background, breaking every so often when the barista at the counter called out a customer’s name whenever their drink was ready. Annette had realized that talking to Calum, once she adjusted her nerves, was pretty easy. He was easy to talk to, once he decided he wanted to actually hold a conversation, and Annette felt pretty good about the fact that he actually wanted to talk to her.

That was probably pathetic, she knew, but she couldn’t bring herself to care.

She liked talking to him, liked listening to the sound of his voice when he wasn’t singing, just as smooth and rich as he engaged with her. Calum talked leisurely, like he was in no rush, and he listened just like that, too. As if he had all of the time in the world to listen to whatever Annette was saying, and it was a complete change from when they met that first night. And it only proved to her that she’d caught him on a bad day, that the Calum from that party wasn’t how he actually treated people, but the one sitting across from her was a more honest and true version of him.

The way he stared at her as they talked was something Annette knew would take some time getting used to. His dark eyes stayed on her lighter ones, as if he was taking in every detail while also listening, and Annette often found herself with a dry throat, in need of clearing it to keep herself grounded. It was dangerously easy getting lost because of Calum’s stare. She wondered how many others had fallen victim to it.

“The Great British Baking Show? Really?” Annette asked incredulously, eyebrows raised as a disbelieving grin spread at her lips. She was gaping at Calum, who huffed with arms crossed over his chest as he frowned at her, though no true defiance was present.

“Why’s that so hard to believe?” he returned, obviously not getting why his admittance to one of his guilty pleasures was so shocking.

Annette laughed, good humored and melodious as she gave a shake of her head. “I just can’t picture you watching something like that. It’s just—there’s no image in my head,” she said with a laugh, her words only causing Calum to roll his eyes.

“Come over one day and then you’ll be able to—”

“Liana!”

Calum instantly cut himself off as the barista’s voice cut through his words, prompting Annette to raise her eyebrows in slight startlement at the unexpected stop. She watched him, eyebrows lowering slowly into a frown as his dark eyed gaze remained behind her in the direction of the counter, all previous lightheartedness completely vanishing from his expression. Brown eyes wide, there was a hint of alarm swimming in them as Calum pressed his lips together, the muscle in his jaw jumping, clearly looking like a man who didn’t like what he was seeing. There was a rigidness in his features, tight and uncomfortable with drawn together eyes lifted and worry reluctantly seeping into his eyes as well.

His lips parted, still looking behind Annette as he quietly breathed out, “Fuck’s sake.”

Calum’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he clenched his jaw once more and Annette grew more concerned over his suddenly irate demeanor, looking like he wasn’t sure if he was exasperated or just wanted to disappear from sight altogether. Hesitantly, Annette asked, “Are you okay?” Slowly, she turned around to see what he was staring so intensely at. “What’re you looking at?”

It wasn’t that busy during this time in the late evening at Blue’s, so Annette’s gaze went directly towards one of the few women she saw standing in the general direction Calum had been staring at. She was pretty, with dark brown hair just a little past her shoulders and legs that looked spectacular in the jeans she was wearing. The woman stood talking to a guy by the counter and Annette guessed he was waiting for his order or something, and with a curious quirk of her brow, she kept her questioning gaze on them as she asked Calum, “Do you know her?”

“Yeah,” came Calum’s response, slow and gruff, his change of tone as surprising as his fallen expression. “You can say that.”

As if hearing Calum’s voice from where she stood, Annette caught the way the woman’s head turned and gaze looked right past her—and right at the man Annette was sharing a table with. Even from where she sat, Annette saw the recognition flash across the other girl’s face, eyes narrowing ever so slightly before they widened in realization.

And then Annette watched her touch the arm of the guy she was with as she said something to him, before she began making her way over, and Annette’s eyebrows raised as she turned back in her seat to face Calum and matter-of-factly said, “Yeah, ’cause she definitely knows you.”

Her gaze finally landed on Calum, who looked like he wanted to be anywhere but at Blue’s in that moment. Annette could tell he was struggling to school his expression, the tightness born out of frustration and something else fighting to make itself known on his face, and she couldn’t help but frown at him. Clearly whoever the woman making their way over to him was, was not someone Calum wanted to deal with as his hands wrapped around the edge of his laptop screen, and Annette was briefly worried he was going to snap it in half just as the woman stepped up to the table.

“Calum, hi.” She spoke in a friendly tone, though without even knowing her, Annette could pick up the subtle hesitance lying underneath. Glancing up at her, she saw the girl—Annette guessed her name was Liana, given that was the name that had Calum getting all closed up—nervously grab the strap of her back with her free hand, the other holding her drink. Her honey colored eyes swept over to Annette, a small smile present. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to interrupt.” She looked back at Calum once Annette offered a no worries type of smile. Was it bad to say she was curious as to what was going on? Looking back at Calum, Liana said, “I just saw you and I, uh, wanted to come say hi.” She bit her lower lip hesitantly. “How are you?”

Liana seemed to genuinely want to know, and Annette’s eyebrows lowered ever so slightly as she watched the two of them. Calum had leaned back in his seat, arms crossed over his chest, and Annette had a feeling it was his way of defending himself from whatever weight this conversation was about to bring. Annette felt as though she was intruding, but getting up now would be too obvious and awkward.

“We’re not friends, Liana.” If Annette had thought Calum was cold towards her during their first meeting, it made that interaction look impeccable in terms of Calum’s demeanor now. She eyed him, silent in concern, at the edge that had bit into his tone and the way his eyes were suddenly void of all emotion. It was unnerving how good he was at that; like Calum had just flipped a switch and was able to hide everything he was feeling that had the chance of showing itself on his face. It was all gone, replaced by uninterested blankness with the creeping edge of dismissal and irritation. Those were the only emotions he allowed to convey, and Annette forced herself to remain a quiet presence. His gaze was sharp as he looked at the standing woman. “Wasn’t our last conversation meant to be our last?”

Annette pursed her lips, her gaze suddenly dropping to the table in front of her, like if she didn’t look at the two people, it’d be like she wasn’t listening in on the way Calum was completely shutting Liana down. She fiddled with her fingers in her lap, feeling the tension suddenly increase tenfold following Calum’s words. Annette understood that she had definitely caught Calum on a bad day the night of the party, because Liana was definitely not someone Calum wanted to be around at all. Annette felt bad for her; she hadn’t felt too great after Calum had walked away, she could only imagine how Liana was feeling.

There was a history there, that much was obvious, and Annette justifiably wondered what could’ve happened that had Calum talking to her like that.

Annette could see Liana shifting uncomfortably from her peripheral. “Come on, Calum,” she tried again, this time a nervous laugh escaping her. “It’s been—”

“Five months,” he cut in. Annette glanced up at him in enough time to see him say, “’S not long enough.”

She took a quiet breath when she noted the stare Calum was wearing: sharp, unforgiving, unapologetic. Annette wondered how Liana was still standing in the face of it, figuring that if she was on the receiving end of it, she would definitely turn and run away just because of the utter heat his glare was radiating. Holy shit—what had Liana done that warranted her such a hostile reaction from him?

Annette managed to look up, her gaze going to Liana, who had a defeated expression on her face that made the seated blonde feel sorry for her. Liana’s throat worked, her cheeks flushing an embarrassed pink, and Annette wondered why the woman didn’t snap back at Calum for speaking to her like that. Annette probably wasn’t one to say something like that, given how Calum had walked away from her the first time, but to be fair, their interaction wasn’t anywhere near as intense as this one. It was brief, quick, like ripping off a bandaid. This was almost too painful to watch.

Just as Annette thought that, she saw a shift in Liana in the way she tightened her jaw, blinking back the hurt Calum’s words enticed as she lifted her chin. With a calm tone that allowed for her own edge to creep in, Liana said to him, “If you remember the last time we spoke, then you remember what I said to you.” Her eyes gave him a once over, the corner of her lips quirking into the smallest of sneers, like she was disappointed but unsurprised with what she was looking at. “But I guess you didn’t listen. As usual.”

Annette saw the instant reaction Liana’s words invited on Calum’s face, the way his dark eyes narrowed instinctively, like he couldn’t believe what she’d just said. His jaw tightened. Like he was fighting to keep himself from reacting but couldn’t. Liana’s words, the meaning lost on Annette, clearly struck a harsh cord with Calum as his shoulders straightened, lips thinning as he fought the words threatening to escape.

But before Calum could say anything—Annette was sure she wouldn’t want to hear it—someone stepped up next to Liana and said, “Ready to go, babe?”

All eyes shifted to the newcomer, the guy Annette had seen with Liana earlier, as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. He seemed oblivious to the tension as he smiled at Liana, gaze sweeping over Annette and Calum as a second thought. He offered both of them friendly smiles, one Annette returned automatically before her gaze flickered to Calum instinctively, because she felt as though she needed to keep an eye on him.

And she was right to, because otherwise she would’ve missed the tightness of his jaw and the way his throat worked as he eyed the guy, or, more accurately, eyed the way his arm was around Liana. She watched Calum take in the sight of the couple, her eyebrows twitching together in a curious and concerned frown as she tried to figure out what Calum was feeling in that moment. To say he was bothered would be putting it lightly; he almost looked uncomfortable, defeated. . . Not surprised as he let out an airy scoff, nodding to himself as he leaned back.

His gaze dropped to his laptop screen, pulling one corner of his lip into his mouth, looking completely finished with this conversation and Annette frowned at him. What the hell was going on?  

“Yeah,” she heard Liana say, her voice growing tight with agitation. “Bye, Calum. Sorry to interrupt.”

They left, their footsteps growing faint the further they moved away, melding into the low hum of the cafe as they exited, leaving behind an awkward silence Annette wasn’t sure how to ease. She took a look at Calum hesitantly, pulling her lower lip into her mouth as she caught sight of him staring out the window to his right. The lights of the city reflected against the glass and his dark eyes, but the outside world melted into the late evening night as Annette watched the clench of his jaw and hardened eyes.

She had no idea who Liana was, but it wasn’t hard to connect the dots that there was some kind of intense history between her and Calum, and whatever Liana meant by her words had hit Calum more than he wanted them to. Annette parted her lips, hesitant, before pressing them together again. She found the courage quickly to gently ask, “Are you okay?”

Calum was silent for a moment. Then it was like something snapped in his head, motions quick and jerking as he shut his laptop, grunting out, “I need a drink.” His gaze dropped to the half finished cup in front of him, frown deepening. “Somethin’ stronger than coffee.”

Annette’s eyes widened slightly, eyebrows raised as she watched him shove his laptop in his backpack before shouldering it as he stood up. Her eyes followed his movements and Calum paused when he noticed her still sitting, watching him. He raised an eyebrow, impatient as he questioned, “You comin’?”

“Uh.” She gaped at him, not entirely expecting the invite, not when he seemed so agitated. His grip on the strap of his bag was tight, and Annette figured he’d want to be alone since he seemed so upset. But if he was about drink in a pissed off mood, Annette would rather keep an eye on him. “Yeah, sure,” she quickly confirmed, feeling as if she took too long to answer, Calum may change her mind.

He waited as she stood up and pulled her jacket back on, grabbing her bag as she followed him out of the cafe. It was chilly, unsurprisingly, as they stepped onto the sidewalk and began making their way down, but Annette was quick to realize they weren’t walking in the direction of the bar they’d been at a week ago.

She eyed Calum as he walked along next to her, just a subtle pace ahead due to his longer legs, his dark eyes staring straight ahead as they went. Annette hesitated on opening her mouth but after they walked a few blocks in nothing but silence save for the buzz of the city around them, she slowly asked, “We’re not going to Mack’s?”

Calum licked his teeth. “If I go to a bar I’m gonna blow all my money. Better to raid my own supply,” he answered steadily, eyes shifting to glance down at her. “You cool with that?”

Annette raised her eyebrows as a way of agreeing. “Yeah, ’course.”

So she stayed quiet as she followed Calum through the city, finally reaching the apartment complex after they walked a few blocks, took a subway ride, and then walked another two blocks. The entire time, Calum had remained silent and Annette kept her arms crossed as every step closer they got to his place, the more she wondered if it was a good idea to go with him—if he even still wanted her to come along. He was clearly not in a good mood and Annette wasn’t sure if he still wanted her company, but she stayed silent. After all, Annette was still kind of wanted to keep an eye on him if he was about to drink.

Her body felt tense with nerves as they stood in the elevator, side by side in complete silence, until they stopped in front of a door that Calum unlocked and opened. He stepped in behind her, flicking on a switch to light up the living room, and Annette took in the dark grey couch facing a TV, windows not quite floor to ceiling but large enough to provide optimal natural light if the blinds weren’t drawn. It was an open plan kitchen and hallway leading towards the bedroom, probably, and Annette admired the apartment. It was simple, with hints of personal touches like concert posters and a shelf full of books and records in the corner, along with a bunch of plants placed strategically.

The sound of keys clattering startled Annette, head turning to see Calum’s hand retract from a small table behind the couch where he’d dropped his keys. She felt awkward, no doubt, given that this was her first time at Calum’s place, as Calum shrugged off his leather jacket and dropped it to the couch before making his way towards the kitchen.

He cast her a look as he went. “Whiskey?”

She followed him with her eyes before pulling out of the brief trance and shrugging off her own jacket. She followed him. Annette wasn’t entirely sure if she’d regret this, but she didn’t quite care in the moment. “Sure.”

The apartment was silent save for the clinking of the Jim Beam bottle and glasses Calum pulled out, placing them on the counter. It was a full bottle, untouched, and Annette felt an uneasy twist of her stomach at the thought of Calum potentially wanting to finish it all tonight. Had his conversation with Liana really affected him so much?

Annette kept her gaze on him, noting his features completely void of any expression as he uncapped the bottle and poured some in each glass. He lifted one of them, dark eyes finally meeting Annette’s light ones as he held the glass out to her expectantly. She took it, offering a small smile as she found herself asking, “What’re we toasting to?”

Calum paused, lips parting to roll his lower one in, tongue swiping over it as his gaze averted thoughtfully, free hand braced on the counter. Then a wry smile curled at his lips, head tilting as his eyes met Annette’s, the sarcasm in both his gaze and voice as he declared, “To being emotionally unavailable.”

That was not at all what she was expecting. Annette looked at him, eyebrows raised in bewilderment as Calum flashed her a derisive smile while clinking their glasses and taking a sip of his drink. But Annette kept staring, wondering why the hell Calum would say something like that—and the way he said it, too. Like he was mocking someone else’s words, ready to spit on them and shove them back in the face of whoever had uttered them.

And she watched as Calum downed the contents of his glass, throat working as he swallowed and sucking in a breath through his teeth as he eyed the now empty glass. “Right, come on,” Calum spoke up, looking at Annette as he grabbed for the bottle with his free hand and walked around the counter. He jutted his chin. “Let’s plant that image of me watching The Great British Baking Show in your head.”

“Uh—” Annette sounded, trying to wrap her head around what was happening. She frowned briefly. “Okay,” she finished slowly as she turned and followed him.

They settled on the couch as calum turned on the TV, and Annette sipped at her whiskey as Calum switched to Netflix. The sweet mixed with smokey taste tickled her throat as Calum played the first episode of one of the seasons.

Annette tried not to think of how. . . Strange this was. She hadn’t exactly planned on watching some baking show while drinking whiskey in Calum’s apartment, and yet here she was, wondering how the hell she ended up here. It didn’t help that Calum’s words were swimming around in her head, drowning out the sound of the TV as she wondered why he toasted to being emotionally unavailable.

They were silent, much like they had been since they left Blue’s, the only sounds emitting from their surroundings as the hum of the city was replaced by the TV. Annette watched Calum from the corner of her eye, sipping her drink and feeling it run smoothly down her throat once she grew used to the taste. He watched the show, slouched on the couch as he sipped from his own glass and kept his gaze glued on the TV, curls brushing across his forehead that Annette itched to push away.

She had so many questions.

But for now, she finished her drink, licking her lips and taking a breath before holding her empty glass out to Calum. He looked at her and then at the glass, lips quirking with a small grin she hadn’t seen since Liana had showed up, a sight that almost jump started her heart, and poured her some more whiskey.

*****

Annette wasn’t really drunk, but saying she was a hundred percent sober would be a lie. She felt slightly lighter than before, laying on the couch with her head resting on the armrest and knees bent so her legs didn’t go over Calum’s lap. He was still in the same position as they had started, slouched on his head of the couch, only this time he was hugging the now empty bottle of whiskey.

“Oh, shit!” he exclaimed, startling Annette as she lifted her head to look at him. Calum was pointing to the TV, eyes wide and lips curling into a wide grin as he waved his hand in such a comical way that Annette couldn’t keep in her amused laugh. “Her biscuit tower fell! She’s fucked!”

Her gaze returned to the TV where a contestant’s tower of biscuits did, in fact, fall over as she scrambled to race against the clock to correct the mistake, and Annette couldn’t keep her laughter in because of Calum’s overreaction, too drunk to keep himself quiet as he guffawed. She watched him, feeling the giggles come a lot easier now that there was some alcohol in her, admiring the flush of his cheeks due to the entire bottle he’d finished after she only had about three glasses.  

Annette wasn’t entirely sure how long she’d been at Calum’s apartment, laying on his couch and watching British people make baked goods as he let out drunken comments and laughs every now and again. When Annette had told him she couldn’t find an image in her head of him watching this show, she’d been right; but now, all she could see was Calum dropping comments of dough not proven for long enough or cakes that looked like a toddler iced them. And it was hilariously unexpected, bringing a lightness to her chest every time he said something. Clearly he spent some time watching the show, and it only kind of made Annette’s heart beat for him a little faster.

When she checked her phone, she sucked in a breath to see that it was almost one in the morning, and if she hoped to wake up for her nine o’clock shift tomorrow, she needed to head home now. So Annette sighed as she blinked slowly, a mixture of slight tipsiness and sleepiness as she pushed herself into a sitting position, running her fingers through her blonde hair to push it back.

“I should head home,” she said, her voice soft against the TV as she shifted to get her feet to touch the ground. Her sneakers were next to the couch as she bent to grab them and shove her feet inside.

“Already?” Calum shifted next to her, sitting up and Annette looked at him, feeling her heart jump at the frown lowering his eyebrows and pout on his full lips to go with the whine he’d spoken with.

Letting out a gentle laugh, Annette responded, “I’ve been here for four hours, Calum. It’s time for bed.”

“Well,” he dragged out the word as he looked around for the remote before finding it and pausing the show, shoulders slumped as he asked her sadly, “why don’t you sleep here? It’s late and—”

“I’ve got work early tomorrow,” Annette told him, her voice kind and heart warm at his offer. God, she’d stay here any other day. But neither of them were completely sober, and work the next day really was killing the mood. The way Calum was pouting at her, drunken and adorable, wasn’t at all helping her in any way, working against her to make her want to stay. But she couldn’t. She’d stayed to make sure he was alright, and while he was drunk, he seemed to be okay. Maybe she’d tell Luke to check on him tomorrow. “I’ll take an Uber. I don’t live far from here anyway.”

Annette stood up, blinking once as she made sure she had her footing, the lightheadedness present from the whiskey. Shrugging on her jacket, she pulled her hair from under the collar and looked down at Calum to see him staring up at her. His dark eyes were glazed over, cheeks and nose flushed cutely, and the sudden urge to kiss him that overcame Annette threatened to rob her of her breath. She needed to get out of here.

“Text me when you get home?” Calum questioned as he stood, and he had less balance than Annette, unsurprisingly, as he let out a quiet whoa with raised eyebrows as he dropped the empty bottle on the couch and grabbed the back of it to keep himself upright.

Annette let out a laugh as she began making her way towards the door, Calum right behind her once he got his footing. “Will you be awake when I do?” she questioned teasingly after opening the door, stepping into the hall, and turning around to face him with a raised eyebrow.

Calum let out a scoff of a laugh—was it a scoff? He almost blew a raspberry—as he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the doorframe—whether it was just an absent action or because he couldn’t keep himself upright, Annette wasn’t sure. Being a bit tipsy was inhibiting her ability to read people. Still, she admired how fucking good he looked in his simple black full sleeved shirt, the fabric of it straining against his biceps since his arms were crossed, and across his chest.

“For you?” Calum questioned as a response to hers, raising his eyebrows as a lazy, boyish grin lifted at his lips. It was a smile that easily had Annette’s heart jumping to her throat, though it didn’t compare to the way a glint danced across his dark eyes when he finished with a factual, “Of course.”

Her cheeks flushed, warmer than the whiskey ever made her as she ducked her head, fighting off a smile, and Calum grinned at her reaction. He tilted his head, leaning it against the doorframe as he watched her, his gaze burning into her wonderfully. When Annette looked back at him, at the relaxed features he was finally expressing and the easy, yet drunken, smile on his lips, she suddenly felt the question that had been nagging her fall at the tip of her tongue.

She wanted to keep it in, to not ruin the moment, but Annette crossed her own arms across her chest and gently asked, “What was that about being emotionally unavailable, Calum?”

There had been no lead up or preemptive move before she voiced that question, but Annette had been keeping it in since the moment Calum had made that toast. Her curiosity itched at her, and with the bit of whiskey running through her veins, it gave Annette enough of an excuse to finally utter it.

She watched as Calum registered her question before his eyes closed, lips lifting into a smile as he let out another scoff while ducking his head. He looked at her once he straightened, curls once again falling over his forehead, and Annette was surprised there was no trace of the dry, humorless smile that had been on his face when he made that toast.

Instead, Calum returned to leaning his head against the doorframe, looking down at her shorter figure with a reminiscent smile on his face. Maybe it was the alcohol in his system that allowed Calum to so easily confess, “Liana and I dated for a while and, uh, broke up five months ago because, according to her, I was too emotionally unavailable to be in a relationship with her. So she found someone who was.”

He ended with a single shrug and a roll of his eyes, but Annette frowned as she saw past that mask. She had figured there was some kind of romantic past between the two of them, but to see Calum still hurt about it had her biting the inside of her cheek, empathizing with him. She imagined being told that you weren’t emotionally attached to your significant other by them couldn’t have been easy, and Annette’s chest tightened for him. And as she watched Calum drop his gaze to the doorframe where his nail was scratched at it, arms still crossed, Annette knew Calum probably felt dumb for being upset about it. But she wanted to tell him he was right to. Him being upset was justified, in her opinion. She didn’t like seeing him like this.

“For what it’s worth,” Annette spoke up, her voice quiet and soft, eyes on him even though he was avoiding her gaze. The tall, broad man in front of her looked small as he tried to hide behind an invisible wall, like he was ashamed of having feelings. Ashamed of being the opposite of the very thing he’d been accused of. So she spoke gently, honestly, in the silence of the late hour. “I think if you’re capable of writing those beautiful songs and singing them with the kind of passion you do, then there’s no way you’re emotionally unavailable.”

The pure honesty in her words had Calum lifting his head, brown eyes finally meeting her bluish-brown ones as he ceased picking at the door frame, and Annette kept the kind smile on her lips as she noted the whirlwind of emotions that flashed across his pretty eyes. She saw them under the glaze of the alcohol as he gazed at her, the sleepiness from the alcohol disappearing for a moment to be replaced with an appreciation for her and her words.

Her statement was followed by a silence that settled upon them like a blanket, and Annette could feel the way the two of them were drawing close to one another under the shelter of it. Their movements were gradual, eyes locked and hearts thundering the closer they got.

Somewhere in the back of her head, Annette could hear a voice telling her to stop; to pull back and turn and leave, but she was quick to shush it. This may be a bad idea, but she didn’t care all too much in this moment. She wanted to ignore her head and listen to her heart, wanted to let her body draw near Calum’s as every second went back, hoping the whiskey in her veins didn’t cause her to lose her balance.

As soon as Annette’s gaze dropped from Calum’s, his dark eyes only alluring her more, and flickered to his lips, there was no going back. Because suddenly she was feeling Calum’s hands cradling her jaw, thumbs on her cheeks as he tilted her head up enough to capture her lips with his in a surprisingly tender kiss. Annette’s eyes slipped shut instantly, her hands gently grasping his wrists as she slowly moved her lips with Calum’s, the sensation of his savoringly sucking on her lower lip sparking a fire in her fueled blood that she voiced through a satisfied hum.

It was a slow kiss, getting to know the feel of one another’s lips as the faint taste of whiskey danced on their tongues and Calum’s touch burned wonderfully at Annette’s skin. She callouses of his thumbs were nothing compared to the warmth his touch provided, or the electricity shocking Anette to her very core as Calum kissed her tenderly.

They pulled away moments later, not because they wanted to but because they had to, air becoming a necessary evil. The kiss ended but their lips dragged against one another’s, noses fitting together and foreheads pressed as Annette kept her eyes closed. All she could hear was the pounding of her heart, feel Calum against her, and inhale the delicious scent of his woodsy, summery cologne and something else that was just him and maybe even more inviting. Annette had no idea what the hell just happened, but she was glad it did.

She couldn’t stay though, no matter how much she wanted to. She needed to go home and maybe think of what she’d just done on the drive back, and maybe hope that the tingling sensation of her lips never went away as she found herself squeezing Calum’s slender wrists under her grasp. “Um.” Annette let out a short, breathless laugh, lips curled into a flustered grin and squeezing her closed eyes before opening them. Her gaze immediately went to Calum’s lips, the ones she’d just kissed, the urge to do so again rushing back powerfully. Annette took a breath as Calum brushed his nose against hers, humming quietly in response, as she finally found the reluctant words, “I should go.”

Against her, Calum brushed his thumbs across her cheeks. His voice was low with an enticing rasp as he responded, “Sounds like a terrible idea.”

Annette let out another breathless giggle as her hands dropping from his wrists and lowered to where his arms were bent at his elbows. Somehow, she found it in herself to pull away, head tilting back ever so slightly to look at him, stomach twisting happily to see his brown eyes already looking at her. She couldn’t be entirely sure if he was looking at her so adoring because he truly meant it or because he was drunk, but Annette didn’t want to ruin the moment by thinking about it. God, she needed to go.

“I’ll, uh, text you when I get home?” Annette responded, her words coming out as a question as she peered up at him, unsure if the offer still stood.

“Please.” He sounded far too earnest for someone who was drunk, and it didn’t make falling for him any harder.

Annette reluctantly pulled away from him, hands dropping from him as he did the same, gazing licking as she offered him a smile. Calum returned it, boyish and lazy, as he crossed his arms over his chest like he didn’t know what to do with them now that his hands weren’t on her.

He watched her go, and Annette could feel his gaze burning into her back as she approached the elevator at the end of the short hall. It opened up right away, and when she stepped in and turned around, her heart jumped at the sight of Calum, leaning out of his doorway to keep his eyes on her. She saw him grin, raising his hand in a two finger salute as the doors slid closed, and Annette desperately wanted to pry them open and go back to Calum.

Trying to figure out if that was just a drunken kiss or if it meant something would only dampen her mood. So Annette put it of her mind, and only focused on the way her lips still tingled and burned from Calum’s own. The smile remained on her face her entire journey home, practically permanently glued when she texted Calum she reached safely, as promised, and he returned it with a semi coherent Good. Night, doll.

*****

“Your two favorite people are right here. What do you keep looking at your phone for, Hemmings?”

Calum’s tease received an absent smile from Luke, though it faltered quickly as a worried expression crossed over his face and he placed his phone on the table. “Just checking in on Annette,” he sighed, leaning back and propping his elbow on the armrest of his chair, running his hand down his face.

Upon noticing Luke’s expression, and hearing his words, the smile on Calum’s face lessened as his eyebrows drew together, gaze flickering over to Sierra. His confusion grew when he saw the understanding expression on her face, and Calum sat up as he looked at Luke sitting diagonal of him. “Is she okay?” he asked, wondering what could prompt Luke to want to check in on her.

Luke’s blue eyes met Calum’s brown, the hesitation that crossed over his face only making Calum anxious as he frowned impatiently. “It’s just—it’s a tough day for her,” Luke answered, hand running through his blonde curls, a nervous habit of his. When he took in the look Calum was giving him, wanting an explanation, Luke held back the ill-timed yet absent chuckle that almost threatened to escape him. Calum’s interest in Annette was obvious, was endearing, which was why Luke found himself admitting, “It’s the anniversary of her parents’ death.”

The expression on Calum’s face went from blank to disbelieving in under a second, Luke’s words registering a bit too painfully in his head. Painfully because it was unexpected and because once Calum understood the heavy weight behind them, he felt his heart drop to the pit of his stomach for Annette. For a split, desperate second Calum was hoping Luke was delivering the punch line of a sick joke, but the somber expression on his face—and on Sierra’s—told Calum his best friend’s words were that of a sad, horrible truth.  

He stared at Luke, incredulous and bewildered, eyebrows drawn together in a frown over widened eyes as he tried to make sense of what he’d just been told. The busy hum of the restaurant the three of them were in dissipated as a flurry of thoughts whirled in Calum’s head, driven by disbelief and even a hint of panic. Annette’s parents were dead and Calum had no idea.

Not that he had any business in knowing, because as much as this newfound information shocked him and even had his heart dropping, what astounded Calum even more was Annette herself. This girl who was kind of shy but had the prettiest, infectious smile had suffered a loss Calum couldn’t ever imagine going through. Of course he didn’t expect her to walk around advertising the painful fact, but knowing Annette carried something as heavy as that with her and didn’t let it show made his throat tighten.

Calum cared for her, more than he thought he would when they first met, his feelings for her growing unexpectedly and out of left field. Annette drew him in after Calum got his head out of his ass and started hanging out with her, getting to know her and her taste for weird colored drinks. She was quiet but chatted when she was comfortable, much like Calum, and the more he hung out with her, the more he realized how easy and effortless it was with Annette.

So effortless that Calum had no idea he was falling for her until the alcohol in his system pushed him far enough to kiss her. The fact that she reciprocated was thrilling.

At a loss for words, Calum licked his lips, throat dry as he asked Luke with his gaze dropping to the blonde’s phone, “Did she reply?”

The corner of Luke’s lips lifted as he disgruntledly clicked his tongue. “Yeah, she said she just got back from Jersey and was home now. Says she’s fine but, y’know, I’m worried.”

“Ten years,” Sierra murmured and Calum’s eyes drifted to her. Her dark eyed gaze was on the table absently, a sympathetic furrow in her eyebrows for the woman they were all talking about. Sierra pressed her lips together and gave a dejected shake of her head, finally looking at the two men as she let out a sigh. “That’s a big one.”

Calum barely knew Annette for ten weeks, yet he felt the powerful urge to be able to ease the ten years worth of pain she was probably going through.

Which is why after his late lunch with Luke and Sierra, he found himself standing in front of the dark green door of Annette’s apartment, lips rolled into his mouth as he debated on knocking. He’d texted her after he left the restaurant, his two messages of Are you home? and Luke told me being responded with Yeah, come over?

Now he was there, willing himself to knock. The last time Calum had seen Annette was two days after they’d kissed, and that was also two days ago. They were busy with work and school, and although they hadn’t seen each other, that didn’t mean they didn’t speak. It was as if nothing between them had changed when they texted, but there was an undertone present that reminded them of that moment at Calum’s door—as if they could forget.

Calum certainly couldn’t. He swore he could still feel the softness of Annette’s lips against his, taste the combination of whiskey and her watermelon flavored chapstick that he yearned for again. Kissing Annette had been an impulsive, drunken decision but it was not one he regretted. If anything, the alcohol pushed him to do something Calum had subconsciously been wanting to do for a while. Seeing Liana led him to wanting a drink, which turned into drinking a whole bottle of whiskey, which eventually led to him kissing Annette.

Seeing his ex hadn’t been the highlight of his day, but saying the day ended on a better note would be an understatement.

Standing in front of Annette’s door, though, Calum knew he didn’t want anything from her right now. He just wanted to be there for her. She may not have asked him to, and he feared he was imposing, but he cared about her in a way that tightened his throat at the thought of her hurting. Calum just wanted to offer any kind of help she may need. He wanted to try.

The door opened after his knuckles rapped against it twice, and Calum was greeted by the sight of Annette, his heart jumping into his throat. Her thick blonde hair was down in its loose waves, looking adoringly comfortable in an oversized sweater ready to swallow her with its sleeves too long and leggings underneath. Calum gazed at her, taking in intricate eyes and the long lashes framing them, as well as how her entire face had a flush to it. She’d been crying.

“Hey,” she greeted, and Calum felt the air rush out of his lungs as her lips quirked into a small smile. He didn’t want her to smile if she didn’t feel like it. Didn’t want her to smile at his expense. But he squashed that last thought when Annette’s eyes showed some relief, and she let go of the door knob when Calum took a step forward and lifted her arms. “I’m glad you’re here.”

He got the message instantly, pulling her in for the hug she was looking for with his arms around her shoulders, feeling Annette’s wrap around his torso. Her fruity scent enveloped him invitingly and Calum pressed his cheek to the top of her head, feeling her own press against his chest and her hands on his back. They held each other close, soaking in the other’s warmth, and Calum’s eyes slipped shut as he physically felt Annette let out a breath, the tension in her body seeming to release with it as she melted into him, the heaviness of her day, her life, weighing against her.

Annette’s voice was small, muffled against the material of his sweatshirt as she said, “I’m probably not the best company right now.”

Calum let out a gentle scoff, arms still around her securely, as he assured, “I’ll be here anyway.”

They eventually ended up on the carpeted floor of her living room, settled on the floor cushions with each of them nursing a cup of tea. Colin wasn’t home, the two of them having the apartment to themselves, the windows closed to keep the heat in as well as the noise of the city outside. It was quiet in the apartment, the only sound coming from the consistent ticking of the clock on the wall near the TV and the occasional clinks of Calum’s rings hitting the ceramic mug every time he adjusted his grip.

“I didn’t think I’d cry a lot today.” Annette’s voice was gentle, not quite shattering the silence but pushing through it. Calum glanced at her, sitting right next to him with their backs against the couch, but her head was slightly bowed and gaze was on her mug of tea. He saw the way the corner of her lips tilted, the smile humorless and not at all fitting her. “But ten years. . . It’s big, isn’t it? Feels like a lifetime.”

Calum stayed quiet, because she needed this. She wanted to talk and he wanted to listen.

“The first couple of years were awful, y’know?” she continued after drawing a breath, lips twisting to the side. “I was the angriest teen you’d meet.” Annette let out a short laugh at that, casting a glance at Calum, noting the attentive way he was listening, never looking away. She looked ahead, his gaze weighing on her comfortingly. “I was pissed that it was my parents who got killed in a car accident and that I had to live with my aunt and uncle and everything was screwed up. Twelve year old me was pissed and over the past few years, I decided I didn’t ever wanna feel like that again. Life was too damn short to stay feeling that way.”

Annette paused as she inhaled deeply, the tendons in her neck tensing as she blinked a few times, and Calum knew her to be fighting back tears. His eyebrows drew together as he watched her keep herself together, wanting to tell her it was okay if she couldn’t. Instead he rested his mug in the space between his thighs and reached his left hand over, grasping onto Annette’s right as he laced their fingers together. She looked down at the newfound source of warmth, a smile quirking at her lips.

“They missed out on so much,” she continued after swallowing with a quick frown. “Track meets, high school graduation, first love, first heartbreak, getting into college. All the things I took their presence in for granted and it hurt every time I went through those things and they weren’t there to support me but it got easier over time. But—” Her throat was tight, voice straining to fight through the emotions closing her up, and Calum felt the subtle burn in his eyes. He wasn’t an emotional guy other than on paper, but watching Annette reminisce the loss of her parents sent a shocking stab of pain throughout his body he hadn’t expected. It hurt seeing her hurt. She squeezed his hand, and he was quick to return the gesture. “Realizing it’s been an entire decade since they’ve passed is kind of. . . It’s unreal. And I hate that it just. . . Isn’t unreal.”

In that moment, Calum felt as though he understood Annette just a little bit better. Understood why she was always smiling and why she didn’t look like the kind of person who got pissed off easily—why she forgave him so quickly instead of being turned off by his behavior at first. She’d spent too long being angry and upset—rightfully so—that she minimized those kind of emotions in other circumstances where she knew she’d be better off just letting it go. The world was trying enough to give someone plenty of reasons to be angry; why hold onto shit that didn’t matter in the long run?

“Holding onto anger like that is exhausting,” Annette spoke up, an airy laugh escaping her as she did so, turning her head to look at him with that same smile she always wore, though this time a hint of sadness curved at her lips, accompanying the tired look in her bluish-brown eyes. Her long eyelashes seemed damp with tears. She offered a single shouldered shrug. “And holding grudges over the smaller shit doesn’t help anyone. When you allow yourself to move on from the little things, it kind of gives you room to make your way through the pain that feels like it’s always holding you back.” The something crossed across her glassy eyes, something akin to sheepishness that Calum caught before Annette quickly dropped her gaze back down to the mug. Quietly, she added in a mumble, “I probably sound stupid.”

“Nope.” Calum shook his head, instantly killing that train of thought before it could go off the rails. With his free hand, he moved aside his mug so he could shift his body to face him. He made sure Annette’s mug was out of the way as well as he grabbed onto her other hand, getting her to look at him. Calum’s expression was serious, but kind as he admired the softness of her skin touching his. “Saying you sound stupid is not giving yourself any credit for how strong you are. I can’t imagine going through a loss like that at the age you did.” He noted the way her lower lip trembled at her words, though she offered a grateful smile, and Calum squeezed her hands. “Your parents would be proud of you for pushing through, Annie.”

Something flashed across her eyes just then, something nostalgic and sad as her eyebrows lifted ever so slightly and a small smile curled at her lips. She looked down at their joined hands and let out a breathless puff of laughter. “No one’s called me that since my parents passed. They were the only ones who called me Annie.”

The guilt twisted at Calum’s gut as he tried to pull back, lips parting as he took a breath. “Oh—I’m sorry, I—”

“No, no,” Annette was quick to soothe, looking up at him with a smile lighter than the ones from before, this one not carrying the pain of her parents’ memory. It was a real Annette smile, the kind that rendered him breathless. She averted her gaze briefly before shyly murmuring, “I like when you say it.”

Her words had Calum smiling in return, seeing a glimpse of the shy and adoring girl he’d come to know, but this wasn’t about Annette making him smile. It was meant to be the other way around. So he tried in the best way he knew how.

“You know what else I know that you like?” Calum asked, raising an eyebrow as a smile quirked at the corner of his lips. Annette sniffled, tears gone and cheeks flushed, as she raised her eyebrows in question. His smile was gentle, kind, voice a soothing murmur as he let go of one of her hands to push some locks of blonde hair behind her ear. The back of Calum’s finger grazed along her cheek as he tilted his head down at her, soft gaze on her as he said, “I know you like it when I sing.”

Annette seemed to understand exactly where Calum was going with this, forehead smoothing out as the grateful smile on her lips returned, chest sinking as she let out a quiet laugh that Calum wanted to hear more of. He easily mirrored her smile, glad to see some of that light return in her eyes, as he briefly cupped her cheek before whispering, “Come on.” His words were followed by Calum shifting them, arms wrapping around Annette and pulling her into his chest, back against him. His arm was loosely across her collarbones and Annette held his arm in her hands and settled against him, feeling the line of his jaw against her temple as his other arm settled across her waist. His warmth against her had an instant reaction from Annette, relaxing her, and Calum brushed his lips against her temple before asking, “Any requests?”

Annette hummed, happy and comfortable, as her fingers tapped against his arm. “Are we talking originals?”

He chuckled, the deep sound vibrating against Annette. Calum couldn’t help but think how comfortable he was here, with Annette in his arms, her body providing more warmth than the tea. He was engulfed in her just like she was embraced by him and Calum was realizing, without pause, there was no other place he’d rather be. “We’re talkin’ anything you want, sweetheart.”

She was silent for a moment before saying, “That one song you had. . . It was really pretty. Uh. . . Waste The Night.”

Calum grinned, lips brushing against her temple once more. “Got it,” he said,taking a breath before he began singing the familiar sound. For the first time, Annette heard Calum just as him; just his voice, with no instruments nor the accentuating of a microphone. And it made this day a little bit easier.

*****

There was a regular customer at Blue’s who, upon sight, brought a grin onto Calum’s face without even trying. Whether it was when he was seated at a table and heard the jingle of the bell and saw her walk in, or when he was on stage and her face stood out in the small crowd—Calum’s eyes found hers and the smile she brought out was one he couldn’t ever hope to stop. It felt different. It felt good.

It was noticeable, the change in him, how the smile came more easily to his face when Annette was around. To the point where the employees at Blue’s noticed and made comments about it and instead of rolling his eyes. . . It only widened Calum’s smile more. And it felt real. He felt like himself before Liana and the heartbreak. He felt happy and good and it all had to do with Annette making him the happiest he could be for the past three months.

Stepping off the small stage at Blue’s, Calum took a minute to put his guitar back in its case before picking it up and walking over to the pretty girl sitting at one of the back tables, a smile on her face as he approached her. “Hey,” he greeted her with a grin, resting his guitar on the floor and leaning it against the table. Calum ducked to press a quick kiss to Annette’s lips, pulling away and standing straight as he raised an eyebrow at her. “I didn’t know you were coming today.”

“Of course you didn’t,” Annette hummed, shooting him a teasing smile as she leaned back in her seat. “Because no one volunteers to work on New Years Eve.”

Calum scoffed with a roll of his eyes, crossing his arms across his chest. “This doesn’t even count as work,” he pointed out, earning a light laugh from her. His gaze then dropped to the table and Calum smiled as he gestured to the cup. “And look, you even got your froo-froo drink!”

“Stop,” Annette pouted at him before breaking out into a grin as Calum shook his head with his own, the smile bringing out those adorable crinkles she loved. “Are you ready to go? We still have to get ready for Ashton’s party.”

“Yeah, let me go to the bathroom real quick,” Calum said and Annette nodded as he turned and went, disappearing towards the back of the cafe to where the bathrooms were.

She waited for him while busying herself on her phone, thought it was short lived when a voice spoke up, “I didn’t think he was capable of still smiling like that.”

Annette looked up, gaze landing on the woman standing by the table, her eyebrows drawing together as she tried to place the vaguely familiar face. It clicked suddenly as the crease in Annette’s forehead smoothed, realizing the woman who had spoken was Liana, Calum’s ex who’d told him, once upon a time, he was emotionally unavailable.

He’s told her about Liana, about how she’d found comfort and solace with some other guy when she was still with Calum. She reasoned that it was because she was lonely, because Calum wasn’t as invested in her and their relationship as she was, and maybe Calum should’ve tried harder, but it also didn’t give her a reason to run into the arms of someone else.

Annette had been angry on Calum’s behalf. But being with him now. . . Liana couldn’t have been more wrong about him.

Keeping her tone kind, as it always was, Annette responded, “He’s always been capable.” She reached for her drink. “It probably just took the right person to bring it out,” Annette added lightly, taking a sip of her iced tea through the straw.

Glancing up, Annette took in the way Liana raised her eyebrows at Annette’s sweetly delivered snide comment. She felt her heart jump a bit, not entirely one to make remarks like such directed at someone, but Annette wasn’t going to let Calum’s ex talk rudely about him to his back—to his girlfriend. Especially when Annette knew how much Liana hurt him, and while Calum got some great songs out of that heartbreak, it was something she uselessly wished she could’ve protected him from.

Annette wasn’t one to hold onto anger, but she was definitely capable of telling someone to fuck off—albeit, more kindly.

Trying to recover, Liana let out a forced chuckle. “It was just a joke.”

Annette pursed her lips, the sweet taste of her drink lingering on her tongue as she clicked it. “Oh, but it wasn’t.” She was surprised at herself for not feeling intimidated by the woman standing in heels over her seated figure, easily looking up at Liana with a cool expression. Surprised and proud of herself. “You don’t mess with someone and play it off as a joke. Especially if you see them better off afterwards.” One corner of her lip quirking up into an empty smile, Annette offered a single shrug as she added, “They’re happier despite what you did, not because of it.”

Liana looked disgruntled at Annette’s words, lips parting and eyebrows drawing together as she tried to find the right words to respond with. Annette doubted she had them. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Maybe not,” Annette agreed with a nod, her eyes on Liana’s. “But Calum’s told me enough.” Annette’s eyes glanced towards the back of the cafe, hoping Calum didn’t come out just yet. “And from what he’s said to me, I know it’d be better if he didn’t see you.”

She kept her gaze steady with Liana’s, not letting the other woman intimidate her. Annette couldn’t entirely believe the way she’d spoken, but when it came to Calum, Annette couldn’t seem to shut up. Defending him came naturally, easily, and she didn’t regret a single word that left her during that conversation. And she let Liana know that with the cool, unwavering look she was giving her.

Of course, Liana didn’t seem to appreciate it. She lifted her shoulders, as if giving herself a backbone, probably feeling good about having to literally look down at Annette, not that that made Annette feel small. In this moment, she wasn’t. With a sneer, Liana said, “Hope his feelings don’t crap out on him again. He can be dysfunctional that way.”

Annette clenched her jaw at that, quite literally having to bite her tongue from snapping back at the brunette who was now walking away. But Annette was quick to calm herself down as she released a breath through her nose. The playlist Calum made for her for Christmas, all consisting of new songs he’d written, all about her, and recorder for her to listen to, would easily prove Liana wrong. But that was for Annette to enjoy.

She hadn’t realized she’d been smiling until Calum was in front of her, tugging at the hem of his leather jacket as he raised an eyebrow at her. “What’re you smiling at, weirdo?”

With a laugh and a roll of her eyes, she shook her head and stood up. “Nothing. Just excited about this party,” she dismissed, feeling a calmness settle over her as Calum grabbed his guitar case and allowed his free arm to rest over her shoulders.

Hours later, Annette stood by the large windows of Ashton’s living room, her eyes taking in the city before them past the reflection of the inside of the apartment where the lights were on and people were mingling. The entire city was partying—it was damn near hell getting from her apartment to Ashton’s since everyone was headed to Times Square—but Annette appreciated being in the warmth and comfort of the apartment than the bitter cold of New York. She also enjoyed watching the vague flurries of snow falling from the sky, high above the skyscrapers around them.

As she swallowed her sip of whatever fruity, alcoholic mixed drink Luke had concocted, Annette felt a pair of arms wrap around her waist and a somewhat scruffy chin deliciously scraping against the skin of her neck. “You good, Annie?” Calum’s deep, quiet voice questioned, keeping her back against his chest as his voice ran smoothly—she’d rather hear that than the music currently playing.

Annette leaned her head back, the smile quirking up her lips at him and the use of the nickname as she placed her left hand on top of both of his, right hand holding the cup. “Mhm,” she hummed, tilting her head slightly to press her lips in a quick kiss to his cheek. She loved kissing his cheeks. “How much longer until midnight?”

Calum hummed thoughtfully as he unwound one arm from around her, digging into his pocket to pull out his phone and bring it around so Annette could see the screen that read 11:58. Annette let out an excited, almost childlike gasp. “It’s almost time!”

Chuckling, Calum pressed his own lips to her jaw, widening Annette’s grin as she felt his scruff scratch against her some more, adding to the sensation of his soft lips. “Why do you think I came to find you?” She let out a light giggle, turning in his arms to face him, though Calum’s arms remained around her. Looking down at her, Calum tilted his head and asked, “So did you decide on your New Years’ resolution?”

“I did,” Annette grinned, the excited glint returning in her eyes as she practically bounced on her heel clad fleet, Calum’s grip on her keeping her in place as he let out a small whoa, eyeing her cup warily, though the smile remained present. Annette already knew of Calum’s resolution, since he’d told her yesterday, which was to secure a proper job at the label he currently had an internship at. Annette knew he could do it. He raised his eyebrows expectantly and she pressed a hand to his chest. “I think this is the year when I’m finally gonna pull out one of the thousands of ideas in my journal and write that damn book.” She poked him, shooting him a knowing, pointed look. “I’ve finally got some inspiration.” 

Calum’s questioning raised eyebrows turned to surprised, excited ones that mirrored the brightness of Annette’s grin, her last comment sending his heart into a frenzy like she always did. The thrill she felt over her resolution brought a grin to Calum’s face, knowing that this was something she’s been wanting to do for a while, and planting the idea was the first step. “Seriously?” Calum grinned, widening so his crinkles appeared and he let out a delighted laugh. “Annie, that’s exciting, love.” He gave her a squeeze, eliciting a giggle. “I’m proud of you.”

“Proud of me?” Annette repeated with a laugh, tilting her head as she gazed at him, eyes glinting. “I haven’t even started. It’s just a resolution for now.”

“It’s the first step,” he told her firmly, giving her a look that spoke of how much he believed in his words and, more importantly, in her. His grin returned. “I can’t wait to read your first draft.”

Annette scoffed. “No way. You’ll get the final one,” she told him. Calum’s pout and whatever he was about to say next was cut off when everyone started counting down from ten, the announcement of the countdown even beginning something that they both missed. She shot Calum a wink, something that only made him grin as she started, “Ten. . . Nine. . .”

Calum shot her a wry grin, though the amusement lit up his dark eyes as he joined in with a teasing roll of his eyes, his hands pressed to her lower back as everyone’s voices echoed throughout the apartment. The two of them remained by the windows, glancing around to see everyone watching the TV that was playing the ball drop happening live, but Annette had seen it all the time—had even gone to it once with Colin and a few friends, a time she didn’t like remembering because of the chaos—and she would much rather be looking at her stupidly gorgeous, talented boyfriend.

He gazed down at Annette, the boyish, easy grin on his face finding home whenever she was around. It wasn’t at all difficult for Calum to admit to himself how he felt around Annette; she had him wrapped around her finger, and often had him questioning how he even fucking functioned before her. Being with her felt as natural as breathing, and every time Annette walked into the room, it was like coming up for air. All he had to do now was let her know and, unsurprisingly, he wasn’t scared.

Five. Annette’s free hand reached up, brushing away a curl from Calum’s forehead, the smile on her face ever present.

Four. He adored the blue that was just on the outer edges of her otherwise light brown irises—Calum could never tire of looking at them, framed with long lashes, dancing with a glint he hoped to find the meaning behind.

Three. After she basically ate her lipstick off, Annette made sure to put on Calum’s favorite flavor of her chapstick—watermelon.

Two. His heart was thundering in his chest, the excitement of the moment getting to him. But Calum knew it mostly had to do with the woman in his arms. It was always because of her.

One. There was so much swimming in his eyes, Annette could tell. So much that was rendering her breathless.

“Happy New Year!”

Their grinning lips met as cheers surrounded them, the entire apartment—and city—bursting into celebration as Annette leaned into Calum and the feel of his soft lips against hers. His arms left her waist so his hands could gently cup her cheeks, keeping her close as they commemorated the new year together, both secretly hoping this was just the first of many. It had only been three months, but they were ready for more.

Calum pulled away slowly, forehead still against hers, deaf and uncaring to the party going on around them as the warm of her cheeks tingled at his skin. He opened his eyes, smiling when he noted Annette was already watching him through hooded ones of her own, and the sight of her eyes and dazed smile made it all the more easy for the words to honestly spill out. “I love you.”

It was there. It was out for her to do with as she pleased. Calum’s heart was thundering in his chest but it was for Annette to have, and he felt his stomach twist in mild nervousness as he waited for her response. She didn’t even have to say it back, Calum realized, as she stared at him with those pretty eyes taken over with shock and disbelief. As long as she knew how he felt about her, Calum was fine. Because he hadn’t been good at this in the past, hadn’t been vocal about his feelings enough. And he would be damned if he let the same mistakes get in the way of his relationship with Annette.

Slowly, a smile lifted her lips and Calum watched her, just an inch or so of space between them, hands still on her cheeks as a gentle laugh escaped her. She felt warm under his touch as she mused, “Starting the year off with a bang, huh?” Her words had Calum letting out a breathless laugh, the nervous tinge to it not lost on either of them, and Annette’s expression softened. She leaned forward, capturing his lips in another gentle, slow kiss that Calum savored, the tension in his stomach easing. He felt himself come undone when Annette whispered back, “I love you too, rockstar.”

She loved him too. He’d always been able to breathe easily around Annette. Now he felt like he was fucking flying.

Her use of the nickname accompanying the very words he wanted to hear her say had Calum letting out a relieved laugh, pulling his lower lip into his grinning mouth as he stared at Annette. She called him that as if he wasn’t just some local performer at some cafe in New York, but Calum would be lying if he said he didn’t love it. She made him feel important, and she made him want to be someone who was worthy of how she felt about him.

Annette loved him and he loved her. They’d become each other’s inspirations, unwittingly and unapologetically—and Calum was ready to prove he was worthy of that title for her just like she already was for him for as long as she’d allow him to.

--

tags: @irwinkitten @glitterprincelu @sweetcherrymike @meetashthere @valentinelrh @softforcal @astroashtonio @hereforlukescruff @c-sainthood @novacanecalum @captain-what-is-going-on @angelbbycal @singt0mecalum @hopelessxcynic @lfwallscouldtalk @bodhi-black @findingliam-o @softlrh @calntynes @calumsmermaid @erikamarie41 @quintodosuniversos @longlastingdaydream @babylon-corgis @lukehemmingsunflower @spideyseavey @imfuckin10plybud @livibii123 @pastelpapermoons @malumharmonies @conquerwhatliesahead92 @rotten-kandy @metangi @neigcthood @ohhmuke @old-zeppelin-shirt @5sos-and-hessa @trustmeimawhalebiologist @vxlentinecal @pettybassists @vaporshawn @lu-my-golden-boi @buggy-blogs @visualm3nte @isabella-mae13 @dontjinx-it @lifeakaharry @neonweeknds @antisocialbandmate @ixcantxdecidexwhosxmyxfave @calpalbby @grreatgooglymoogly @sunnysideblog @cocktail-calum @miahelizaaabeth @madelynerin @dramallamawithsparkles @hzi0 @aulxna @mermaiden004 @theagenderwhocriedwolf @kaytiebug14 @hoodskillerqueen @bitchinbabylon @empathycth @xhaileyreneex @inlovehoodx @calistheloml @aestheticrelated @bloodlinecal @sublimehood @madbomb @raabiac @britnicole11 @outofmylimitcal @fluffsshawn @calumculture @sexgodashton

[t100ficrecsblog]

an interview with @changingthefairy-tale​

What are you working on right now? Right now, I’m focused on BellarkeFic-for-BLM (I just got an amazing canon prompt I’m really excited to finish). I’ve also been participating in this round of the Chopped Challenge, which has been fun and challenging. In between prompts, I’ve got two WIPs that I’m slowly cranking through. Shoutout to every single reader who’s been incredibly patient while I’ve been so slow on those updates — though, reminder that you can donate to a BLM organization (even a $3 donation works) and request an update to get those higher on my prio list while I’m focused on that initiative.

What’s something you’d like to write one day? My absolute dream job and the ultimate goal is to become a showrunner for a prime time TV show. I love TV shows — I love the way actors and directors and crew take a script and breath life into it, I love how you take a general idea for a story and mold it into something amazing as you go, I love how a series gives a story more time to be fleshed out and explored, I love the concept of a writers room and collaborating on a story. It’s a different ballgame from fic writing (which I do for fun) and travel writing (which I do for a living), but I’m determined to make it happen. JRoth, I’m coming for your job, babe. 😉

What is the fanwork you’re most proud of? I’m still really new to fic writing, especially compared to some of the powerhouse writers in this fandom. And I’m sure one of my WIPs (when finished) will probably supersede this. BUT, my one-shot about Madi calling Bellamy on The Ring (She called you for 2,199 days) is something I’m really proud of. I’m a long-winded writer, so one-shots have never come naturally to me. This one just…clicked. It’s got some good lines in there that I’m proud of, and based on the feedback I’ve gotten, it really made readers feel something and connect to the story. It’s not my longest story or my most thought-out. But it shows my growth as a writer these past few months, and I’m proud of that.

Why did you first start writing fic? I started writing fic as a creative outlet for my writing. My day job is writing about travel and credit cards. And while I enjoy that, it’s just not as creative. My dream is to write for a TV show though, and I was craving a way to flex my creative writing muscles in a low-stress way. I started watching The 100 when it first came out, but I didn’t really get into the fandom until I came back to the show during the S5/6 hiatus. That’s when I started reading fics and reblogging stuff about the show on Tumblr. During the S6/7 hiatus, I had this idea for a Greys Anatomy AU, and my sister (who is also a major fan of the show) was like, “You literally write things for a living. If you want to write a Grey’s AU for t100, there is absolutely nothing stopping you.” I published my first chapter on that The Choices We Make in Dec. 2019, and the rest is history.

What frustrates you most about fic writing? For me, I think that the most frustrating thing isn’t even about fic writing itself; it’s the fact that it’s a side-hobby and not something I can dedicate my full attention to. When you write all day for your day job, then do some for your freelance gig, and then turn around and try to write for a few hours every night for fic… that gets hard sometimes — especially since starting quarantine where I’m not traveling, going out with friends, getting a break from it, etc. Fic writing is a creative release for me, and I absolutely love crafting and writing these stories that involve some of my favorite fictional characters. And I love interacting with other writers and fic readers, I love talking about ideas and exchanging headcanons and fangirling over my favorite writers’ works. But (because there’s always a but), sometimes I just don’t have the mental energy or capacity to write at the end of the day when I’ve turned in 3 deadlines for work. I’ve got all these ideas floating in my head, but only so much time and mental energy I can dedicate to it.

What are your top five songs right now? Oh boy. So I live alone, which means I’ve got either music or Netflix on in the background 24/7 because ya girl doesn’t like silence. I have a different playlist for different moods. I’ll share my fav song from each of those playlists. Lol Fvck Somebody by The Wrecks (On my “Summer state of mind” playlist for when I wanna dance it out in my kitchen like an idiot)

Don Quixote by Drapht (On @talistheintrovert​’s “My Good Bitch Murphy” playlist for when I’m feeling *edgy*)

that way by Tate McRae (On my “Pandemic Jams” playlist bc I like angsty music and this song is a Bellarke MOOD)

Washington on Your Side from Hamilton (On my “Feeding my Broadway Obsession” playlist for when I wanna sing show tunes and plot overthrowing the government)

Tea by Noah Davis (Shameless plug for Noah bc it’s a bop and I literally dated Noah’s older brother in junior high — so proud of this kid for making his dreams a reality)

What are your inspirations (books, songs, other fic, really good cake)? All of the above, except I like pie more than cake. lol But really, I kind of use everything around me for inspiration. “The Choices We Make” is inspired by my love of Grey’s Anatomy. “Intertwining your soul (with somebody else)” is inspired my the first draft of my YA novel (though the setting was adapted to a grounder canonverse AU). “The Day He Shut That Rocket Door” and “She called you for 2,199 days” were inspired by @historyofbellarke‘s headcanons that were brought up in S7 speccing conversations (shoutout to her for enabling my angsty ass). My most recent WIP “There are some things written in the stars” that I started as part of Chopped (but will continue because I’m obsessed with the idea) is inspired by my love of Timeless. And I have an entire Notion database filled with fic ideas — some one-shots and some multi-chapter fics — that are inspired by quotes, songs, conversations with friends, books I love, shows I adore, random HCs that pop into my head while I watch, my own life experiences, etc. I take inspiration in any form it decides to come in. 💕

What first attracted you to Bellarke? What attracts you now? I’m a ho for enemies to lovers — the idea that you can put your worst foot forward and show someone all the ugly parts of you… and that they’ll see that and somehow look past it to see the good stuff too, falling in love with your whole self instead of just the pretty parts. Yeah, it’s my favorite romance trope. And that tension is what originally drew me to Bellarke. Now, it’s a combination of things. I love each of these characters in their own right. I relate to Clarke in a lot of ways, and I aspire to be her level of badass. I straight adore Bellamy Blake (flaws, stupid decisions, and all) and would marry him in a heartbeat if he were real — I’m not even kidding. lol But I also love their dynamic. They are partners, best friends, perfect compliments to the other. They see each other in a way no one else does, and they are the one person the other constantly risks everything for. They are both so driven by their responsibilities to their people, yet that all typically goes out the window the moment the other is at risk. I don’t believe in soulmates in real life, but it’s nice to get to believe in this fictional world that they are just made for each other.

BESIDES Bellarke, what character or pairing do you like best on t100? My favorite character besides Bellarke is John Murphy. His arc has been BY FAR the best on this show, going from that little shit in S1 to this “asshole we love” in the middle to now a true hero in this final season. And through it all Richard Harmon has been amazing to watch on screen.

My favorite pairing besides Bellarke is Linctavia. Yes, that ship is problematic in a lot of ways, but I still loved their dynamic. Lincoln helped Octavia navigate this new world that she was so desperate to be apart of while being mindful of her safety. And I thought they were a good match — he helped tame her fire without putting it out, and she helped challenge the way he was raised. Given time, I think they could have become one of the most stable and loving relationships on t100. Of course, that couldn’t happen because Jason needed Bell’s actions in 3A to have heartbreaking consequences, O to spiral for her own character journey, and whatever mess happened off-screen between Ricky and him. But they still remain my favorite ship aside from Bellarke.

Why did you decide to start writing for bellarkefic-for-blm? The second I saw that Sam was planning on doing this, I reached out to ask how I could help/write/be involved. The BLM movement is so important, and this is an amazing way for me to contribute while pursuing my passions. It’s a way for the fandom to get involved and do something good. And ultimately, this helps organizations that need donations. Shameless plug for everyone to please go check out the Bellarke Fic for BLM page — check out the many amazing writers and artists we have participating, and send in prompts. Most of us are allowing WIP chapter update requests, and there are a number of us (myself included) who are matching donations made! No donation is too small, and you’ll be supporting a movement that is a necessity in the U.S. and beyond.

What’s your writing process like? My mind is literal chaos, so I plan and outline like hell in order to make sense of everything. When I get an idea for a fic, it goes on my Notion database. Within Notion, I write down my inspiration for the idea, and a pretty in-depth summary of where I want the fic to go — dialogue ideas, any feelings/emotions I want to invoke, literally just a brain dump of all my ideas. From there, I’ll arrange that brain dumb into an outline. If it’s a one-shot, I’ll generally write the whole thing in the Notion doc. But multi-chapter fics will get a checklist within Notion for me to keep track of progress, and I’ll actually write the fic in Google Docs. I generally start writing from the beginning of a story, but if I get stuck or have an idea for a later scene, the fact that I’ve outlined heavily allows me to jump around as ideas come to me. I’ll read each one-shot or chapter after I’m done to make sure it flows before publishing. I post chapters for my WIPs as I write them, which I should really stop doing. lol For my readers’ sakes, I should work ahead and publish on a schedule rather than making them wait for my slow ass to finish chapter to chapter. But right now, that’s my process!

What are some things you’d like to recommend? Oh goodness, too many fics to possibly name. Instead, I’ll link to my AO3 rec bookmarks (which isn’t all-inclusive of the amazing fics I’ve read in this fandom, but it’s got some good favs in there) and shout out all of our awesome Bellarke Fic for BLM writers. Y’all should check out their work (and send in prompts)!

Where’s the best place to find you (twitter? tumblr?) I’m @changingthefairy-tale on Tumblr and @changingthefairy_tale on AO3! My ask box is always open for anyone who wants to scream about the show, ask about specs, talk about my fics, etc. Come say hey!

[cloudbeom]

Ghost stories | Huening Kai

Pairing: Huening Kai x reader; Choi Beomgyu x reader (platonic); Choi Yeonjun x reader (platonic); Choi Soobin x reader (platonic); Kang Taehyun x reader (platonic)

Warnings: none

Genre: fluffiest fluff to fluff

Words: 2.5k+

Summary: late-night sneaking with your three best friends in school ending with just two best friends left. And a sweet cliche

A/n: I was inspired to make this from this video of hyuka, tae, and beommie exploring the runaway set and saying its haunted bcs babies. and also MY FIRST TXT FIC!!!! uwu

There were almost 800 students; probably more who attended your school who you could’ve befriended with. But nooo, you had to befriend the five guys who for some reason always had trouble following them. Like murphy’s law.

“Please,” Yeonjun pouts, laying on Soobin’s bed in his dorm room. Being surrounded by his five other friends and Soobin in the kitchen making soup for the older. When no one said anything, Yeonjun grabs the person closest to him, which was, unfortunately, Beomgyu, and begs, “Please Beomgyu? Do it for hyung? Yeah? Please?” 

“Hyung we’ll be expelled if we’re caught. School grounds strictly close after 10pm. Not even club members are allowed to go there for meetings after the time limit.” Beomgyu said, “And plus, you're sick. We can't let you go out if we’re going to be carrying you around five minutes later.”

“Hyung is perfectly fine,” Yeonjun says and sneezed at the exact same time after he says it. Earning a half-hearted scoff from Taehyun.

“You’re not fine, hyung. Don’t be so stubborn and just get well, then you can apologize formally to your art teacher yourself,” he says, sounding like he’s scolding the older.

“But- but my pride!” Yeonjun says dramatically, moving his arm to his forehead as he sighs, “What would they think when they hear that popular senior Choi Yeonjun is apologizing for something he does wrong?”

“That you're humble?” Huening Kai says under his breath, and you can’t help but giggle a little at that.

“Come on, (Y/n), back hyung up here!” Yeonjun says, and you can't help but sigh at how miserable he looks.

“Alright, we’ll do it,” you say, and Yeonjun immediately brightens at that.

“Really? For real? Oh (Y/n) do you know hyung loves you so much?” Yeonjun says, throwing his arms up to cheer, but only ending in a coughing fit.

“I mean, I love (Y/n) too and support you and all,” Beomgyu turns to you, his expression saying all it needed, “But are you out of your mind!?”

“Yah don’t change her mind!” Yeonjun says desperately, “Hyung will get you ice cream when I’m better, okay (Y/n)? Just make sure you do it without getting caught!”

Kai grabs your shoulder and leans down to whisper into your ear, “No offense, but are you crazy?”

You turned around to face the four, “Aish, come on guys let’s just do it for Yeonjun. You know he’ll never shut up if his reputation gets ruined. And if his art teacher sees what he had turned in as his piece, he’ll get suspended, or worse, expelled.” You say, pleading them to help, “Come on it’s our hyung here.”

“Yeah do it for hyung!” Yeonjun says, seemingly eavesdropping, and Taehyun rolls his eyes at him.

“Fine, I’m in. But only because I know if you get your ass expelled you're not going to cook for us anymore.” Taehyun says, then walks out of the room. 

“Yay! hyung will treat you all to ice cream if you succeed, I promise!” Yeonjun says, coughing a little at the end.

“Just get some rest for now, hyung. We’ll take care of it.” Beomgyu says, defeated as he walks to the door, opening it for Soobin to walk in with a full tray of food just for the older.

“Did Yeonjun convince you?” Soobin asked, and Kai shakes his head.

“He convinced (Y/n), we’re just going to she doesn’t get her ass in trouble,” He says casually, and Beomgyu nods at what Kai says, walking out. You stare at them in disbelief.

“I can't believe them,” you mutter under your breath, and Soobin chuckles.

“Good luck sneaking into school,”

“Are you not coming with us?” You ask, and Soobin shakes his head.

“Someone needs to take care of the drama queen,” Soobin says, whispering the last part, and on cue, Yeonjun whines.

“Binnie, hyung wanna eat,” Yeonjun says from the bed, making grabby hands to the younger boy. Soobin sighs.

“Good luck with that,” You say, implying Yeonjun. Soobin smiles, dimples and all, in return and walks past you, heading to the bed and you joined the trio.

Huening Kai, Beomgyu and Taehyun were in Tae’s room, you walked in and saw he had laid various flashlights and a tool kit on the floor and on his bed was various keys, each labeled accordingly. 

“Wh.. what are all these? Where did you get the keys, Taehyun?” You asked in disbelief, to which Tae replies with a simple wink.

“Magic,” He says

“No doubt its from all his pranking,” Beomgyu mutters to himself, sighing in fake disappointment. Guess there was a reason why Taehyun was dubbed as the school’s prankster by everyone.

“Yah, gear up. We’re not going to attract attention so take these flashlights.” Taehyun says, throwing the smaller one to you, “Does anyone here have a good memory of how the school looks like?”

“Oh, I can do that!” Kai says, Taehyun handing him the bigger flashlight. Kai did have most of his classes spread out across campus, it was no surprise he knew every nook and cranny of the school.

“Here wear this,” Taehyun throws you his black hoodie, and you catch it easily.

“For what?” You asked, but complied because everything Taehyun owns was a hoodie and all his hoodies were comfortable as fuck.

“If you think pajamas with very bright yellow ducks on them will be easy to sneak in, there’s something seriously wrong with you.” 

You look down at your pajamas and sure enough, they were covered in yellow ducks, but you scoffed, “I’d have you know the ducks protect me from demons when I sleep.”

 “And by a demon, you mean Yeonjun hyung?” Kai says, interrupting your sibling bickering toying with his flashlight.

“Yeah, demons and him,” You say, chuckling as you played with the sleeves of Taehyun’s hoodie, “Oh and don’t think we don’t know that you’ve probably already done this before.” 

Taehyun only smiled sheepishly

.

“Wait this hoodie doesn’t belong to you,” You suddenly said, right when the four of you had broken in and were walking in the very, very dark and empty halls of the school. Making all three boys jump when your voice echoed, Beomgyu shushing you by clamping a hand on your mouth.

“Do you know that if you were in a horror movie, you’d die first?!” he whisper-shouted, and you tried to pry him off.

“I was just surprised, sorry!” You giggled a little, Kai shakes his head with a small smile.

“Drop it guys. We’re nearing the art room, no one will hear us if they were right outside here anyways,” he says, opening the door to the art room and shining his flashlight to the art displayed there, “What the- God that scared me,” Kai laughs a little.

“What is it?” You asked him, walking towards where he was as Taehyun and Beomgyu lags behind.

“Isn’t this fitting?” Kai shines the flashlight towards an art piece that looked like it was covered in blood, arms reaching towards the middle of the frame, “Scary.”

“Hey, isn't this your favorite candy, Beomgyu?” Taehyun asked, looking at a mannequin that was dressed in what seemed like candy wrappers made to look like an outfit, Beomgyu gasps dramatically, “It is! Oh my God... did they eat all of these candies just to make this? I didn’t know such cruel people existed,” Beomgyu says dramatically, pouting at the end. Taehyun claps the older’s back.

“Come on guys, let’s focus first,” You said, turning to the trio, “Let’s go and search for Yeonjun hyung’s art piece,” 

“Someone should keep watch,” Taehyun says, “You know, just in case,”

“I’ll do it,” you volunteer.

“I’ll go with you,” Kai chirps beside you, “Can’t have you alone out there,” He adds, motioning the flashlight to the empty hallways.

“Then it's settled, give us fifteen minutes,” Beomgyu says, Taehyun already diving into the shelves to search for wherever the art teacher had placed their Hyung’s work before she reviews it the next morning. Beomgyu pushes the two of you outside, “Just shout ‘Soobin’ if you hear someone coming,”

“Why him?” Kai asked, turning around and Beomgyu just shrugs.

“Just do it!” He says, then walks back to the art room.

Silence passes through the thick air once you and Huening Kai were left alone.

“I feel bad for Soobin hyung now,” You chuckle, trying to ease the awkward tension in the air. Leaning against the wall of the opposite room of the art room.

“For Soobin hyung? I feel bad for us,” Kai replies, and it made the both of you laugh.

Just then, the door you were leaning on creaks. You both jump at the loud sound, stilling until the door opens wide.

“Crap, I didn’t know that door opens,” You say, still staring at the door.

“It’s the old Chem lab, they don’t use it anymore,” Huening Kai says from behind you, walking forth, “Wanna check it out with me?”

You glance at the art room before turning back to Kai with a grin, “Let’s be quick,”

You crept behind the older male slowly, at first peeking inside the room. It smelled of chemicals and it was filled with boxes and cobwebs, apparatuses that were broken or we’re not transferred to the new rooms still sat in the workbenches and there were still writings on the chalkboard.

Just as Huening Kai was about to comment about the place, you both hear the door to the lab slam shut, the both of you jumping at the sound, frightened.

“What the-” Kai says, whipping around and running to the door, trying to open it, “Fuck, Beomgyu?! Taehyun?!” he says desperately, shining his flashlight towards the door which had, unfortunately, reflected the light, not projecting it outside.

“Does it not open?” You asked, trying to remain calm as you ran over to the door and try to open it yourself, hoping the door had shut because of the wind, “Taehyun this isn’t fucking funny!” You cry, hoping it was your stupid roommate who had did this as a prank for not keeping watch.

“Shit shit shit-” you panicked, all murder scenes from every horror episode coming into your mind at once, rattling the door by the knob and knocking on it several times, “It’s- It’s jammed,” you chocked, starting to hyperventilate. You were not going to have a break down now.

“Hey, hey calm down, (Y/n),” Huening Kai walks towards you, easing you with his hands, “Don’t panic, just breathe with me, okay? They’ll notice that we’re not there and come get us,” He says, pulling you to him, knowing how scared you were in situations like this.

“We’re locked in the oldest room in the furthest part of the building- we’re not fucking okay!” You shake in his arms that Kai had circled you in.

“Beomgyu and Taehyun are next doors, they’ll get us,” he says, and you notice his voice was shaky too. That's when you realized that he’s probably trying to contain his fear aswell. He was also afraid.

You crouch down, and since Kai was hugging you to him, he was pulled down with you. You both sat in the dark laboratory in silence. The air was still, and there was only a single window by the door that served no help due to the fact that it reflected the flashlight beam back. Not that the window would’ve been much help anyway.

“We’ll... we’ll be alright.. right?” you asked, and that made Huening Kai chuckle a little.

“I hope,” he says, “Is your flashlight dead?”

You look down into your hands- you had almost forgotten that you had a flashlight! You turned the switch on and, thank god, it opened. Providing you with a little more ray of light.

“It works!” You exclaim, lifting it up, and hitting Kai in the process.

“Ouch- fuck-” he cursed, covering his jaw which you had hit with the flashlight, and you covered your mouth.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry, I-” You walked towards him, reaching to rub the spot you had accidentally hit, and he raised his hands to tell you it was okay, but had shone the bigger flashlight he was holding right into your iris.

Now it was your turn to hiss, your palms coming to cover your eyes that had filled with tears, responding to his beam of light that suddenly blinded you for a moment.

“A-Are you okay?” the older male walks to you, still rubbing his jaw, and you giggled a little at the karma that you got, “Why are you laughing?” Kai asked, but his tone a little less worried now because of you giggling.

“I deserved that,” You said, now a little calmer than before, walking towards his voice and immediately cupping his face, brushing your thumb over his jaw where you had hit him, “Does it hurt?”

“I’m-” Huening Kai stutters, looking down at your concerned face, all your attention completely towards him, and he releases a soft sigh, seemingly not realizing what the words came out of his mouth next, “I’m... I’m so in love with you,”

Well, that wasn’t what you expected.

He must’ve thought you hadn’t heard him because his face started heating up in your hands, and he clears his throat, ��(Y/n)?”

“Y-Yes?” You asked, “Sorry?”

Huening Kai looks awkwardly at you for a brief moment, then shakes his head.

“N-Nevermind,” He says, standing up and holding out a hand for you, “Are you okay?”

You took his hand and he pulled you up. You had heard what he said, and you really didn’t want him to regret what he had revealed because quite honestly;

You had loved him too.

“N-No, Hueningie, I’m- well actually it’s- it’s fine,” You rambled, and the older tilts his head.

“What is, (Y/n)nie?”

Explaining with your hands didn’t work, so, stressfully, you had cupped both of his cheeks in your hands, and pulled him down.

His lips were on yours in a matter of seconds.

Sure, it was a little cliche, to be kissing with your crush and simultaneously the person who had confessed to you not five minutes ago, but it was a sweet cliche. One where he had smiled into the kiss, and instead of pulling away in shock, he had wrapped his arms around the small of your waist, and one of your hands had made way into his hair. Where your lips were moving in sync as unspoken love revealed.

And where two certain best friends were giggling from outside.

“So cute,” Beomgyu giggles when he snaps a picture quietly, two of his best friends finally getting together after the frustration of you both not realizing you loved each other, “Yeonjun hyung owes me a week of free lunch!”

“You had a bet with Yeonjun hyung?” Taehyun asked the younger to which he responds with an enthusiastic nod, and the other sighs, turning back to the scene in the laboratory.

“Let’s get then out of there before someone comes,” Taehyun says, walking over to the door with his key, Yeonjun’s art piece, and a small victory smirk, “Or worse, if they start making out,” he continues, to which Beomgyu responded with a look of pure disgust.

[odinsblog]

what do you think about Pete Buttigieg? I'd really want an openly gay president bc I'm gay, but I'd wanna do more research before voting and all. I don't know my opinion on it all yet.

Hey, anon. Do you remember a software program called ooVoo? It was a desktop app that supported multiple, real time video conferencing. I’m not sure, but I’m pretty sure it came out before FaceTime was a thing, and I am absolutely certain that it supported multiple video sources for conferencing long before Skype did.

SN: It always strikes me as a little weird that I can always remember the name of it.

Anyway, in early November of 2007, my family (me, my mom, and my siblings) was spread across 6 different states and we desperately wanted to see and talk to each other. It was the night that Barack Obama was elected.

We were on that video call for hours. FOR HOURS. From late Tuesday night, November 4th, until wayyy early in the morning on November 5th. Everyone had to go to work the next day, and we were all exhausted, but I don’t think anyone hung up before 2am. I remember wishing that my father was still alive to witness that day. (He wasn’t a political guy, but the subject of a Black president came up more than once with he and I. My father didn’t believe that it would ever happen, and until that November night in 2007, I didn’t believe it either.).

The day after the election, there was a certain kind of electricity in the air. Especially on the South side of town. The black side of town. I can still remember going to the barber shop and feeling the sheer jubilation in the air. It was a palpable, tangible thing. Nobody was beefing. There was no tension in the air. Everyone was smiling and happy. Cats and dogs were playing together. It was a glorious day. And I haven’t felt anything remotely close to that kind of positive energy since then. Maybe it was close at a polling place (a church) on the eve of the election where Andrew Gillum “lost” to Ron DeSantis.

Whatever you might think about Obama politically, there is NO denying the singular importance of his presidency.

Anyway, I said all of that to say this: I’m not gay and I am not a member of the LGBTQ community. But ..... I *think* that I have a pretty good idea of what an openly gay president would mean to gay people everywhere. An openly gay president would have the same significance for the LGBTQ community that Obama did for Black people.

And as much as I personally disliked Hillary Clinton, I dO understand what her presidency would have meant to little girls and women.

So, without disrespecting or trivializing your question, I just wanted to say that I definitely feel where you’re coming from. I get it.

Now here comes the hook: that all said, I think Pete is a shit candidate. Shit, shit, shitty. And despite the fact that he is gay, I think he still represents white male mediocrity.

I could easily do so, but I’m not gonna go into a ton of supporting reasons. Suffice to say that I think Pete is yet another “moderate” conservative, centrist in the mold of the Clintons. He’s a ringer for the DCCC. A place filler. A “woke” candidate who checks off a box, so that if he dOES go somewhere in the primaries, then the Democratic Party can weaponize his sexuality and call any *genuine* critiques of him homophobic. Similar to how they did with Hillary. Corporate media is proping him up and inflating his poll numbers by saturating the airwaves with favorable stories about him.

Look, I would personally LOVE to see another black president in my lifetime. (And this time, someone a lot more progressive than PBO). And there *are* two black candidates I could push for during the primaries: Cory Booker and Kamala Harris, (who iMho, only recently embraced her blackness). But I’m not supporting either of them through the primaries. Even though they’re black. Because they are also neoliberal, Reagan/Clinton Democrats.

SN: before anyone breaks out into a rendition of, “anyone is better than Trump,” or, “vote blue no matter who,” please don’t. Better than Trump is a super low bar that 99.999 percent of the people reading this can clear. It doesn’t mean 99 percent of the people reading this should be POTUS. This is the primaries right now. Right now is exactly when I get to be picky about my preferred candidates. This is precisely the time I get to say that I prefer candidate-X over candidate-Y. It’s not a purity test. It’s the mf primaries. If YOU don’t care about the policy distinctions between the primary candidates, then please do us all a favor and kindly STFU until the general election in 2020.

So my bottom line is this: do your own research. If you love Pete, then do you, I guess. I personally think he’s a shill for corporate Democrats.

[thanks--for--listening]

all these people think love’s for show (but I would die for you in secret)

yes im finally back with fic! this time its korrasami tho bc my avatar obsession has not let me go yet. and yes its based on peace by taylor swift lol (also on ao3)

--

I’d give you my sunshine, give you my best, but the rain is always gonna come if you’re standing with me

Korra always came back to the sky. When the noise became too much, when the voices and the faces wouldn’t relent. Staring at the stars made her feel small, reminded her that the world was bigger than the images in her head. It was always changing, the constellations and the colors from the portals shifting as time passed, but in the end that change brought something new. Something good. Something beautiful. 

“Can’t sleep?” She turned, saw Asami standing in the doorway, arms wrapped around her stomach. It made her wonder if it was cold out here, if she would even notice anymore. After everything her body had been through, she couldn’t gauge her standards, couldn’t figure out whether she felt something normally or too much or not at all. Did she not feel the chill in the air because she grew up in the South, or because she’d felt the life drain out of her, felt a cold so deep the definition had changed completely? Could she ever care for someone like Asami, someone so perfect and beautiful and normal, when she was so permanently damaged she couldn’t even begin to see the extent of her own scars?

Korra tried to snap out of it, searched for something she could offer her and came up empty. She fought back the urge to light a fire on the balcony floor just to keep her warm as she nodded. Asami sighed, walked up to her until they were standing side by side, arms leaning on the railing in front of them. “Yeah, me neither.”

“You wanna talk about it?” Korra asked. 

Asami turned, raised an eyebrow at her. “Do you?” She shook her head, and when Asami laughed, she swore she felt a spark inside her, the embers of a flame that had burned quietly for so long finally finding the space to grow. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

Silence floated in, gentle and easy, leading their attention back to the sky. The whole city seemed to be asleep, everyone exhausted from the past few days. She thought she’d appreciate the moment of relief, but there was something unsettling about staring into the streets and seeing nothing but vines and rubble. She’d spent her entire life used to the empty, to open space with nothing but sky and silence to fill it, but here it looked all wrong. It looked like another thing she’d ruined. Republic City would never go back to what it once was, to what it was supposed to be, to what Aang had dreamed it could be, and it was entirely her fault.

“Hey,” Asami‘s voice nearly startled her. “You okay?” She didn’t understand why she was asking until she followed her gaze, looked down and saw the metal railing bent and broken underneath her hands.

Korra sighed. “I thought when the battle was over, this stuff would get easier. I’m beginning to think it’ll always be this hard.”

“I’m sorry,” Asami said. “I feel like I kept pestering you after Zaheer. Kept trying to get you to talk to me, to let me help you, but now...I can understand why you wouldn’t want to. Why you couldn’t.”

“You have nothing to apologize for. You did everything right. I’m the one who messed that all up.”

“Don’t be silly, of course you didn’t.”

“Yeah, I did. I messed everything up with Zaheer, with Kuvira. With Mako and Tenzin.” She hesitated, before adding, “With you.”

“You haven’t messed anything up with me.”

“But I will.” 

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, this,” Korra gestured toward the yellow beam shooting up into the sky, “isn’t going away. It isn’t going to stop. And as long as you’re with me, you’ll always have to deal with it. And someone as good and kind and wonderful as you shouldn’t have to suffer because you love someone like me.”

“Who said I’m suffering?” Korra glared at her, but Asami didn’t relent, didn’t soften her gaze. “I’m serious. Being with you has only made my life better.”

“Since you met me, you’ve been arrested, captured, stranded in the desert, and forced to fight some of the strongest benders in the world. Oh, and you almost had to sell your company. Let’s not forget that.”

“I also met some amazing people, learned how to take care of myself and my business, and made sure the Sato legacy wouldn’t be associated with hate and fear. You showed me that I could be more than I’d ever thought possible. If I’d never met you, I don’t know who’d I’d be now, but it wouldn’t be me. Not really.”

She didn’t want to say it, didn’t want to let out the words that had been eating away at her since the battle, but she couldn’t keep them in anymore, couldn’t let Asami look at her and not know the truth. “You lost your dad,” Korra said quietly, “because of a monster I created.”

“No. I didn’t. I—“ she bit her lip, and Korra watched as she swallowed, blinked back the tears that she knew would force themselves out sooner or later. “I lost him because he made a choice. To sacrifice himself for the greater good. To fight Kuvira, who you did not create. You stopped her, in a way only you could.”

“I should have stopped her sooner. If I had been stronger, if I had taken her down the first time, if I hadn’t been so weak, maybe—maybe I—“

Korra felt her words disappear, felt tears of her own threaten to make an appearance, but the feeling of Asami’s hands over her own buried whatever emotion had tried to fight it’s way to the surface. She squeezed hard, like she was holding her together, and Korra wondered if maybe she was, if one person could be that strong. If two hands were all it took to keep someone intact. “You are not weak, Korra.” Asami spoke as if she was giving a command, and she felt compelled to listen. “You are the strongest, bravest, most selfless person I know. But even you can’t stop bad things from happening. None of us can.”

“But I’m the Avatar. I’m supposed to help people. Save people.”

“And you have. How many people did you save by creating that spirit portal? By defeating Unalaq? By stopping Zaheer?”

“Yeah, but— I just—“ she searched for the words, found them buried underneath the rubble of every version of herself that came before tonight. “I just wish it didn’t hurt all the time. And I know what Tenzin said, but I wish being me, being with me, didn’t mean a lifetime of desperately trying to prevent bad people from doing bad things. It’s like I’m always fighting, like I’m always gonna be fighting. And I’m so tired, Asami. Sometimes I wish it would all just stop. Not for a day, or a week, but forever.”

They didn’t say anything, not at first. Korra looked down, stared at their hands, still pressed together. She waited for the words she knew would come, waited for Asami to recoil, to tell her it was too much, that she was too much. That she wasn’t worth it. That the brief periods of peace would never be enough to outweigh the pain and suffering that would always follow. And when she did, when she reached her breaking point and walked away, Korra knew she’d let her go. She’d gotten more time than she’d ever expected already — she wouldn’t allow herself to be greedy and ask for more, no matter how badly she wanted to keep those hands wrapped around hers. 

“It isn’t fair,” Asami finally said, “that you have to go through this. You didn’t decide to be the Avatar. You didn’t pick this life. But I did. I choose you, Korra. Today, tomorrow, and every day after that. I’m in this no matter what.”

Korra looked up, tried and failed to hide the surprise in her eyes. “Even if it hurts?”

“Even if it hurts. I want it all: the good, the bad, and everything in between.”

Korra hesitated, just for a minute. In her wildest dreams she couldn’t have written this, couldn’t have imagined a world where after everything that happened, Asami wants to stay. Wants her. And maybe it was selfish, and maybe she was damning her to a life that no one should ever have to live, but she couldn’t lie and pretend that she didn’t want her more than anything, couldn’t walk away when she was standing in front of her, couldn’t stop from confessing every secret she’d tried to bury in the name of survival. 

“If you’ll let me, I choose you, too. I don’t want to spend my restless nights with anyone else. And I know I can’t give you the life you deserve, but if it’s enough, whatever I have is yours. Always.”

Asami stepped closer, threw her arms around her. Korra fell into them, let herself get lost in the feeling of Asami’s embrace. She felt safe, in a way she didn’t anywhere else. The world couldn’t touch her here. 

She didn’t know how long they stood wrapped in each other’s arms. Korra didn’t care— she’d spend a lifetime in this moment if she could. She probably would have tried, if she didn’t hear Asami yawning into her shoulder, didn’t feel exhaustion weighing heavily on her own eyes.

She forced herself to step back, to lean out of her arms just enough to look her in the eyes. “So much for not talking about it, huh?” Korra said, and she knew photos could never do it justice but she wished she had a way to capture the look on Asami’s face when she smiled, when she laughed quietly, just for her to hear.

Asami pulled her closer. “Don’t let go yet,” she sighed into her chest, “You’re warm.”

“We should probably head back inside, anyway — see if we can salvage any more sleep tonight.” 

Korra wouldn’t have caught it if Asami hadn’t been wrapped up in her arms; instead, she felt the tension shoot through her body like an echo, until her shoulders went stiff and her hands squeezed a little tighter. 

“Asami,” she said slowly. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she answered too quickly. “I just like being out here. I don’t think I’m ready to head inside yet.”

“Asami. Talk to me. Why don’t you want to go back to bed?” She looked at her, really looked at her, and this time she saw the bags under her eyes and the desperation in them, and quietly added, “Did you sleep at all tonight?”

Korra watched her hesitate, and patience had never been her strongest virtue but she willed herself to wait. Her efforts were rewarded; Asami shook her head, stared at the ground and whispered, “I don’t want to see it again.”

“See what ag—oh.” Realization swept over her, and she cursed herself for not putting it together sooner, for not thinking about what could have possibly led her to also be awake in the dead of night. “Oh, Asami. I’m so sorry.”

Asami looked up, and the tears that had threatened earlier fell all too quickly now. Something inside Korra broke at the sight. She pulled her closer on instinct, held her and pretended it would be enough. She wondered if this would be their future, holding each other together to keep them both from falling to pieces, wondered how many nights they’d spend exactly like this, running from nightmares that didn’t disappear when they opened their eyes. 

Korra waited until she heard the cries settle, until Asami stopped shaking in her arms, to ask, “Can you tell me about it?” 

Asami shook her head. “You’ll blame yourself,” she said, her words decisive, quiet but powerful. “I won’t let you hurt like that.”

“I won’t let you hurt like this, either.”

“You can’t fix everything, Korra.”

“I can try.”

Asami stepped back, looked up at her, and Korra swore she smiled, just a little, just for a second. “It—“ Asami started, searching for words before she continued. “It makes me feel so helpless. The watching, the waiting. Every time I see it I know he’s...that he’s gone, but then you disappear into that machine. And no matter how many times I try and tell myself that it isn’t real anymore, that it’s over, part of me never knows if you’re going to make it out. Not until I wake up and see you for myself.”

There was a war inside her. Korra the Avatar wanted to ball up her fists, wanted to feel her fire burn, wanted to fight the pain away so that Asami would never hurt again. Korra the girl wanted to pull her closer and never let go, wanted to make promises she couldn’t keep just to make her feel better, even if it wouldn’t last. As battle waged within herself, whichever Korra was left behind wanted to ball up and cry. She knew she’d been right, knew that no matter what Asami said, she couldn’t possibly want to hold onto this much pain. She knew that it didn’t matter which Korra won the fight in the end — not a single version of her was worth it. 

“I’m sorry,” Korra finally said. She had a million other apologies sitting at the tip of her tongue but she forced them back. 

Asami read her mind anyway. “Not your fault,” she said. “I’ll remind you every time if you need me to.”

“Still. I’m sorry you’re hurting.”

Asami sighed, as if the very admission of her pain was something to be frustrated about. “I don’t understand why it hurts this much, though. A month ago we weren’t even on speaking terms. I spent years hating him for what he did. And I was right. He did so many awful things to so many people, and a few games of Pai Sho can’t make up for that. So why can’t I stop seeing him?”

“He was still your father, Asami. All those years he spent raising you don’t just go away. You have a right to be sad about what you lost.” 

“That’s the thing, Korra,” she said quietly, like she didn’t trust the words coming out of her mouth. “Sometimes, I’m not sure I’m sad. I’m mad. I’m mad that he went against everything he ever taught me. I’m mad that he fought for someone who hated what you are. I’m mad that he left me alone, that he didn’t even give me the choice.”

Korra reached for her again, searched for any words that could have possibly helped but came up empty, left only with a mantra of apologies that would never fill the hole left behind. She knew that feeling, understood with brutal clarity what it felt like to lose her agency, to be left at the will of those around her when she was the one who would suffer the consequences. It was a feeling she wouldn’t wish on anyone. And as she stood there, Asami’s head on her chest, she knew that she could never be the one to make her feel that way. Stay, leave, fight, run — no matter what she wanted, it could never be up to her. 

“I’m sorry.” Asami’s voice broke through her own internal ramblings.

Korra failed to hide her incredulity. “What could you possibly have to be sorry for?”

“I came out here to try and help you, and then I turned and made it all about myself.”

“Oh, stop it.”

“I’m serious, Korra.”

“So am I. You think I have the monopoly on pain? That I’m the only person who can ever be comforted?” She stepped back, placed her hands on the side of her face and made sure she was staring right into her eyes as she said, “I love you Asami, and that means that I’ll always be here to listen, or hold you, or do whatever it is you need. Anytime, anywhere.”

Asami smiles back at her. “I love you, too.”

“And,” Korra added, “as much as I wish I could keep you away from all the shit that comes with being me, I promise I’ll never take the choice away from you. If you want in, you’re in. If you want me, I’m yours.”

Asami leaned forward, kissed her cheek, and Korra thought she might burst into flames right there on the balcony. “Thank you,” she whispered.

They stood there for a minute, and she knew they should head back inside but she wanted one more moment of whatever this was. Peace, maybe, or something like it. Something close enough.

“We really should go back inside,” she finally conceded, “but I think I have an idea.” She stepped forward, held her hand out behind her. “Trust me?”

Asami reached for it without hesitation. “Always.”

Korra smiled, led her back into her temporary bedroom, held onto her until they were laying side by side, with just an inch of space between them. 

“You said when you wake up, you never know if I made it out. If I’m okay. This way you’ll know.”

“I bet you use that line on all the girls,” Asami said, and she could hear the smile in her voice, but she couldn’t help herself from responding seriously. 

“There’s no one else. Never has been. Just you.” 

Asami erased the space between them, moved so her head rested on Korra’s shoulder, and she wondered how it had taken her so long to realize how well they fit together, how she could have possibly lived so long in a world without this. 

“Does it ever go away?” Asami asked after a minute, her voice drifting away from their lighthearted jokes, soft and sad and lacking the hope Korra wished she could give her.

She thought of her own ghosts, of the scenes that played in her head like clockwork, of the way she could still find herself choking on air as she opened her eyes. She thought about the more recent additions, the way Kuvira had swapped places with Zaheer the past few nights, haunting her as relentlessly as her predecessor. “I don’t know. But it does get easier, after a while.”

“I wish I could have been there to help you. I wish I didn’t stay when you left. I wish—“

“You’re here now. That’s all that matters to me.”

They laid there for a few minutes, and here, when it was just them, Korra felt the silence return. It didn’t carry the weight of the world, didn't bring anything with it. It simply filled the space around them, provided a comfort she wasn’t used to. 

“Korra,” Asami whispered. “Is it okay if I’m still scared?”

“Yeah. Is it okay if I am, too?” She felt Asami nod. “Then we’ll take on the night together. Fear and all.”

“Even if it hurts?”

She couldn’t stop herself from smiling, even as she felt her eyes close, her arms pulling Asami closer still. “Even if it hurts.”

[ificanthaveu]

ROMANCE REVIEW

ok so here’s me hyping up Camila for longer than anyone asked for but this album...is just so good and when she said visual I’m like yeah ok but... I SAW so many things and so many lyrics/songs reminded me of things that have happened to me and I’m like, you know what? time to overshare

TRACK 1 SHAMELESS: ok so obviously I’ve listened to this before like a million times, but when I first heard it, I was very much like... I don’t like it. and then I listened to it again and I’m like haha nevermind I was wrong (i do this all the time don’t @ me I know I suck) the way she says “shameless” with that rasp? screaming her lungs out? yeah, bitch, I feel that. I hear that. and just the whole vibe of YEAH I feel this way and WHAT ABOUT IT.

favorite lyrics: “Now that you have me, do you want me still?” “I’m tired of loving somebody that’s not mine”

TRACK 2 LIVING PROOF: Every performance of this...makes me love it more and more. The choir singing hallelujah...gave me the VISUALS bc ya girl grew up Catholic, and I couldn’t help but imagine that Easter day where everyone is praising and saying hallelujah and it’s just such a pure JOY. and with the God references and “being sent to save me” just getting major church vibes. AND her high notes in the chorus...we stan a queen with TALENT. I love how she references hands a few times because I just love when you can communicate something just through touch. I think that is truly the deepest form of knowing someone. 

favorite lyrics: “Tell me something, but say it with your hands, slow” “Show your demons, and I might show you mine, one at a time”

TRACK 3 SHOULD’VE SAID IT: ok now I’m just going to sit here with my jaw dropped open because SIS said what we’ve been saying for SO LONG. The theme of “change” is so strong in this, and I just love how she portrays it. And her talking about the songs not sounding the same...she’s literally like yeah I get you wrote songs about me, but have you heard of imessage? a phone? But this is the kind of song that I want to scream at the top of my lungs and dance to in my living room, but, alas, I cannot relate. I can’t get one person to love me, how tf would I get 2? And the way she says “so sorry” like she...is not sorry. and I LOVE IT and it just really drives the point across, like, I’ve moved on, you didn’t say anything. 

favorite lyrics: “baby, he fell from grace, landed right in your place” “I wish you could turn back time, and hold me closer, instead of your pride” (OUCH BABY YES SING IT)

TRACK 4 MY OH MY: catch me shakin my ass to this till I die. I just love the FEEL of this. and her YELLING “I swear on my life that I’ve been a good girl” and the “Tonight I don’t wanna be her” like yes bitch let her be BAD for a night baby you GO GIRL. Listen, I will never get sick of the falling for a bad boy narrative. Sign me the fuck up, every damn time. Like, yeah? I’ve been good, time to be bad bitch. and her LAUGHS during the rap. I love her wow. The chorus is just so CATCHY. It’s just sooo bad boy narrative, my parents don’t like him, not being a good girl for the night, and again, always a hoe for that. ALWAYS.

favorite lyrics: “I said, if he kissed me, I might let it happen” “She know I’m a call away, she can drop a pin and I’d come meet her” 

TRACK 5 SENORITA: I’ve talked about this 5 million times, but I’m a proud mom so here we go again! The fact that they collabed again, was enough to fuel me for years, bc my prime was during IKWYDLS. What a good era. This song makes me feel DAMN SEXY. I want every song to make me feel this way. every time they say “oh la la” just send me to my grave. and shawn’s “call” during the chorus...speechless still. I love a good friends to lovers (in song and IRL we love that for them). I just love the aspect of yeah it’s hard to leave you but every time we touch just reminds me that this is all worth it. AGAIN with the TOUCH being just the most intimate way of knowing someone. 

favorite lyrics: “her body fit right in my hands” “you say we’re just friends, but friends don’t know the taste” “cause you know it’s been a long time coming, don’t you let me fall” 

TRACK 6 LIAR: this bb was my fave when it came out with shameless. I LOVE the whole theme of I said one thing but now you’re changing my mind and making me seem like a liar. I also love the trumpets. I love a good trumpet in a song if it’s used well. AND with the whole, yeah I’m a liar, and what about it? I like clapping along to the bridge in the car. and then fuckin dancing to the chorus. peep me screaming this in my car all the gah damn time. also, the lying to yourself? the worst kind. and this song just being the RECOGNIZATION of yeah... I am lying to myself. you KNOW? like that “oh fuck” feeling, like you’ve been denying it and denying it and denying it and finally you’re just like...oh shit. and then you just fuckin GO FOR IT because you realize it now and now we’re making up for lost time. and then the final “cause my clothes are on the floor” jaw DROP first time hearing that like yes baby. and I usually skip instrumentals at the end of songs bc I usually think they’re stupid and pointless ope but THIS is the only one I don’t skip because it’s too damn catchy

favorite lyrics: “I don't care, it's been too long, It's kinda like we didn't happen” “but what if you kiss me, and what if I like it?” 

TRACK 7 BAD KIND OF BUTTERFLIES: my heart hurts, honestly. like in that first chorus where she’s like you’re going to hate me after you find this out. just BREAKS me. it’s just very stuck between a rock and a hard place. she wasn’t going to win this fight. it was going to hurt no matter what she decided. she was going to hurt someone she cared about no matter what she chose. the way she says “tonight” with that note run yes baby yes. and like living proof, I love the high note chorus. and the way she says “the bad kind of butterflies like when you have something to hide” like I FELT that shit. those kinds of butterflies are the freaking WORST when you just know you have to tell someone about something because it’s just eating you alive. her voice just perfectly portrays the feeling this song encapsulates. 

favorite lyrics: “don’t look at me while I’m breaking” “I understand if you hate me” “I know I said we were friends and when I said that, I meant it, somewhere between now and then it became more than just a friendship”

TRACK 8 EASY: out of her songs that came out before the album was released, this was my favorite. just...i get so speechless and I have no words, it’s just so beautiful. like having someone who loves you, who sees your flaws, and doesn’t freaking care. like that first verse is like “yeah we both know I got flaws but you love me anyway.” and the whole thing of really, really knowing someone and really, really loving them is just so damn heartwarming. and feeling hard to love? yeah, Camila, I GET THAT. someone find me a man who feels this way about me. and just having someone...who loves you...until you can love yourself... I want one. and again with the TOUCHING, I see a theme here baby and I’ll talk more on that later. that bridge just freaking hits me and when she sang this on SNL I could just SEE how much this song meant to her and she looked so content singing it. 

favorite lyrics: “You tell me that you'd rather fight than spend a single peaceful night with somebody else” “tell me with your hands that you’re never leaving” “All I know is you saved me and you know it” 

TRACK 9 FEEL IT TWICE: this...hurt me. because this is my worst fear. like having someone fall for you, and you don’t feel it, and then suddenly to be in love with them and for them to be like I’m sorry but I don’t feel that way anymore. and I just love that this one is a lot less of “you fucked up” like should’ve said it and more like “I hate that things had to happen this way and I don’t want to hurt you but I can’t do anything else.” it’s heart-wrenching. and just WISHING that this wasn’t the case, but it’s just how it is. because that’s how love works. you can’t force it if it isn’t there anymore or was never there at all. and keeping the distance because there’s nothing else you can do and it’s the only option because there’s just this tension no matter what you do. because it’s there no matter what. and the PARALLEL of “how can I be your friend when I know the way you taste” and “but friends don’t know the way you taste” in senorita makes me think that she was writing this song while she was writing senorita and that’s why she added it in later. but pertaining to my life... I don’t relate because I feel everything like 8 million times and I catch feelings for anyone who looks at me and I go back and forth on crushes all the time (there are like 5 coming to my head rn wow I am the worst).

favorite lyrics: “Oh, I'm scared if I look in your eyes, I might see your soul, I know love is the loneliest place when you fall alone” “Sitting by the phone, holding onto hope” “I can feel you still staring at me when I look away” “I don't know what's worse, getting broken or making it break” (it’s hard to pick favorites for this one WHOOPS) 

TRACK 10 DREAM OF YOU: I like the music in this one a LOT. I feel this shit in my SOUL. and “he’s a right answer” reminded me of the most recent episode of The Good Place (iykyk). also, I don’t know WHY but I love the line with “a confessed sinner” bc, again, ya girl grew up Catholic. he got that post confession GLOW. that “I just got everything off my chest, and I feel GREAT.” and this one, with all she’s doing all day, is dreaming of him, yeah I am a hardcore daydreamer. so that’s me hello. and the transition of “I dream of you” to “I dream with you”...take my heart and throw it at a wall. the DESPERATION in “please say you dream of me too” like PLEASE tell me this is mutual because you literally take up all my time so please tell me you feel the same way. 

favorite lyrics: “And you squeeze my hands two times, three times” “I was not living, I was just writing about it” (this is me a lot and I feel attacked)

TRACK 11 CRY FOR ME: this high key reminds me of “Dead” by Madison Beer. but anyways. it’s so SASSY and I LOVE IT. I just love the feeling of someone moving on first, and then the other person moving on, and then the first person being like oh shit what you moved on what. like just wanting someone to HURT because what the FUCK? like why do you gotta do this bro? and just the yeah I know I shouldn't feel this way but fuck it. and I love that just lie to me. like you know what, tell me you miss me, so I can feel good about this. and the screaming in “HOW CAN YOU BE OK” like BITCH I’m HURTING so CRY PLEASE

favorite lyrics: “You said that, in this lifetime, you could never get over me? Are you over me?” “see her lips erasing me” 

TRACK 12 THIS LOVE: this is one of my favorites. I love how it’s soft? but also, not soft at all. like FUCK this love. the building walls just to watch them fall? like yes, sis I just wrote a poem about this a few months ago bc it is me. like that person, you built walls up before and they just keep knocking them down. and then you regret it, every time and build them up again (s/o to my shit middle school friend yike) and just the feeling of getting pulled in this cycle over and over again. you can just HEAR the desperation in her voice in parts of this and I love when you can hear that. I also like the use of “maybe” like this love is fucking hell but maybe don’t let me go just yet but on the other hand, maybe you should. AND ending with the “here I go again” just yeah stab me in the heart. 

favorite lyrics: “Waiting for you just in case one day it doesn’t hurt” “get out of my veins” “If you need your space, then just walk away”

TRACK 13 USED TO THIS: pull out your tissues ladies. I was most excited about this one, and she PULLED THROUGH and lived up to my expectations. I’m always a sucker for the whole vibe of “I hated this place but now I have this special memory there and now I love it.” the transformation from hate to love in so many ways. to find a person who does that, it just doesn’t happen a lot. now time to unnecessarily connect it to my life but not really because ladies and gents, I fell for my best friend. he was the most amazing guy ever. and he was my best friend and suddenly it was like...oh fuck. and the line about whispering his name differently and can’t you hear it? just reminded me of him right away. because of that FEELING of seeing them and knowing you have these feelings and being like...can you hear the change in my voice? (he didn’t btw. that was sad. this song will be “what could've been” for me. lol. bye). and the “feeling” with that touching again HELLO. and the drink clinks in the background love that. friends to lovers? yeah, sign me the fuck up. and I love the use of “definitely” like that hesitation of yeah it’s going to take me a sec but I’m DEFINITELY getting used to this. 

favorite lyrics: “No, I never liked San Francisco, never thought it was nothing special till you kissed me there” “It's the strangest feeling, midnight, I'm not leaving, no, for once, I think I'll stay" “I say your name, just listen, doesn't it sound different? Never whispered it this way” “And the calluses on your fingers, I admire them from a distance, now they're on my cheek” “oh, I've known you forever, now I know you better” “let’s get carried away” (i should’ve just copied and pasted the whole song I’m in love)

TRACK 14 FIRST MAN: ok. I know I said grab your tissues. but here’s where you really need them. when I say I sobbed, I freaking MEAN IT. like I was getting ready for school this morning at 6 am while listening to the album and it was only me and my dad awake and this just hit me so hard. I’m super close with my dad, so I really really feel this. Once the song was done, I went and found him and I was still crying and he’s like WHATS WRONG and I gave him a hug and I tried to explain what it was about and he’s like yeah no won’t listen to it. going to cry. then I texted him later and he listened and you bet my father cried as hard as I did. he literally said he was in the bathroom trying to compose himself (spoiler, my scary dad is soft af but don’t tell anyone and expose him. literally the other night i said i probably cry every day and he said yeah me too). it’s so soft, and just, yes this is happening, but that doesn’t mean I’m cutting you out of my life. like this man is everything you ever wanted for me, and I know this is damn hard, but it’s going to be worth it. and the transition of spending all the time with family to spending time with this man you want a future with. and like y’all know that breaks a parent’s heart but at the same time, it’s all they want for you. and the progression of just being with that guy and then to the wedding day. and the part where he says she’ll always be his little girl. ugh, this whole song is my dad and I love it and hate it because the amount of tears I’ve cried today is unhealthy. and in general, I just love how soft this is and you can just hear the love in her voice. I’m crying again hi. s/o to the good dads out there, and if you don’t have one, you can share mine. I genuinely cannot listen to this song without crying, yet I’ve listened to it like 6 times today. this song means so much to me and I honestly want it to be my father-daughter dance at my wedding,

favorite lyrics: “And I found someone I really like, maybe for the first time” “You held me so tight, now someone else can, but you were the first man that really loved me” “Now you're driving to the airport, not just me you pick up anymore” “You're looking at me while walking down the aisle, with tears in your eyes, maybe he deserves me, You don't even know how much it means to me now”

FINAL THOUGHTS 1) I AM SO HAPPY WITH THE WHOLE ALBUM. I love all of these songs so much, and they’re all so VISUAL just like she said they were going to be. I love when you can see a song. That is just so damn powerful.

2) THE THEME OF TOUCHING. guys, I am O B S E S S E D with this. like I said before, I think it is such a RARE form of intimacy and love for someone when you can communicate something with a touch. Like that hand on the shoulder or on your back or knee or whatever. but just KNOWING what they’re saying. I love how she addressed it multiple times and you see it weaved into so many songs of that touch communication.

3) I saw this on twitter, and I think it was part of an official review or something. But the journey of “hey I’m falling in love and here are the trials and tribulations of it” and then ending with “I can feel this way because you taught me” is just...so amazing and powerful. 

COME TELL ME YOUR OPINIONS, THOUGHTS, THEORIES LETS CHAT ABOUT IT I LOVE TALKING ABOUT THIS

[darisugawa]

Hello-- if you're still taking prompt requests could I please ask for a (somehow) fluffy ❝ All I’m saying is, I’d prioritize your orgasm over mine. ❞ and Jyuto? Thank you

juto is rly the only character that could get away with making this sentence romantic i’m laughing as;ldkjfaAS;LDKFJA 

but like... pg-13 bc Smut Mentions as per the prompt. but it’s pretty much fluff in its entirety lmao

Smooth (Like Your New Suit)

     ↪ Juto/Reader

You don’t know what it is Juto is trying to tell you, but damn you wish it could wait until after he’s done making a mess of you.

“What’s up with you today?” you ask, discontent as you lean back against the wall. Your arms are still around his neck and you frown up at him. “Pretty sure you’re the one that called me up this late... Having second thoughts on your booty call or what?”

“I wish you wouldn’t call it that,” Juto says, sighing in exasperation and looking frustrated with himself. 

“Juto, it’s after midnight--what else is it supposed to be? A sleepover?”

“... I missed you.”

... Huh?

“... You saw me, like, three days ago,” you say, confused by his sudden confession. You wonder for a second if he's tipsy or something--Juto is incredibly clingy after some strong ones--but you don't smell any alcohol from him and you're not sure how to approach this. Juto still isn't saying anything, looking about as lost as you do, and you shift uncomfortably against the wall.

“... You're being weird,” you say.

“It's not all that strange to miss someone is it?” He's not looking at you, so you know he's trying to avoid explaining himself… though you don't know what he expects when he’s getting intimate on you all of the sudden.

“It's weird for you,” you say, taking your arms back and crossing them in front of your chest. “If I remember right, this is coming from the same guy who didn't even remember my name when you came by my shop to ask for my number.”

“... Which you refused to give me that day.”

“Yeah. Because you were an asshole who left me at a fancy hotel the morning before.”

“I had work.”

You snort. “Oh, come off it.”

Juto doesn't have much else to say to that, conceding defeat with a wry smile. He still won't look at you, instead focusing on the space between you as he circles thumbs against your hips. It's soothing--comfortable--but you're not willing to tell him that… maybe not yet, anyway. The mood's sort of ruined, so you wouldn't really mind staying like this while you sleep side by side, but Juto clearly still has something to say, so you wait for it.

“... You really don't make anything easy for me.”

“You don't do well with easy. You wouldn't be here otherwise, would you?”

“... You're right,” Like you usually are. “But I'm also terrible at this.”

“I know,” you say, reaching up to rest your hands against the sides of his neck, stroking against the skin. Juto relaxes under your touch and you try not to let that go to your head too fast. You’re pretty sure you know what he's trying to say now, but he's got to earn the rest first. It's silent for a little while longer, but you're patient because he's not used to laying himself bare.

“... Would you stay with me, if I asked?”

“Are you asking?”

He pauses. “... Yeah. That's exactly what I'm asking.”

“Hm…” you hum in response and his eyes are so, so worried--you might feel bad if it were anyone else, but you've garnered a habit of keeping Juto on his toes. The air is tense between you and Juto's fingers curl around your hips a little tighter, like he's afraid you might slip through them if he isn't careful. You brush your fingers through his hair and he shudders.

Does he realize how desperate he looks?

“I'd be denying myself if I told you no,” you say, pressing your palm to his cheek. “I'm also not that cruel to just leave you hanging.”

Juto relaxes, even if his smile is tired, and nuzzles against your hand. It surprises you, but you don't pull away. “Is that right? It certainly feels like you keep dangling me off of a ledge with an overlying threat that you could let go whenever you like.”

“The law doesn’t keep you in line, so someone ought to make you a bit more nervous about your own decisions.”

He barks out a laugh at that, letting the tension fall out of him again. This time, you let yourself smile at him--you like it better when he looks so free and you take your hands back again and grab his wrist instead. Juto makes a small noise of surprise and stumbles behind you--you sort of regret not looking back to see his impression.

“Now that you've got that off your chest, let’s just lay down. The mood's dead, so you might as well comfort me a bit,” you say, leading him back to his bedroom before you shrug your jacket off. Juto takes it from you before you have a chance to throw it on the floor and you snort at him. Meticulous, as always.

“It's not like we can't pick it back up…” he says, just halfway suggestive.

“What, seriously?”

“All I'm saying is that I’d prioritize your orgasm over mine.”

“Well, gee, aren't you a romantic?”

“Listen, I--”

“Yeah?” you say, crawling under the comforter. “You wanna try and get it up or let me hold you for the night instead?”

Juto blinks at you before realizing what you're offering and you watch the tips of his ears flush as he buttons up a sleeping shirt. You don't tell him that this time, since you've stressed him out enough--he can reap his rewards for once, you think, and he joins you shortly after. Juto doesn't seem sure of what to do, so you go ahead and pull him close, tucking him against your chest. He takes to it better than you expect and wraps his arms around you, sighing as he makes himself comfortable.

“... If I didn't know any better,” you say, running your fingers through hair. “I'd say you were looking forward to something like this.”

“... Shut the hell up.” He hides his face and you laugh.

“Yeah, yeah I get it,” you say, sounding more fond than you even mean to. “Just go to sleep. Maybe I'll even make breakfast in the morning if I’m feeling up to it."

Juto hides a smile against you--you don't have to tell him twice.

[spiltscribbles]

Hi! It's me again! 145 or 113 (bc I can't chose fjjkk) for pynch prompt 💜

z~113. “I made you cupcakes cause I knew you liked them”

.-

Send Me A Prompt

.-

Adam’s always appreciated the light thrumming of life that buzzed in Washington, even in the middle of the night. It’s no where as loud as Boston had been, but still, it distracts Adam from floundering in his own thoughts that even now threaten to swallow him whole in an ocean of insecurities and doubt that had first bore to life in the precarious stillness subsequent Robert’s fists and his mother’s impassive gaze. Nights of wondering if he’ll ever be good enough. Good Enough to earn his parent’s affections, Gansey’s friendship, Blue’s warmth…. Which all eventually culminated into questioning if he’ll ever be good enough to deserve the near reverent way Ronan regards him, has always regarded him. To deserve the soft touches and encapsulating kisses and the way Ronan looks at Adam as if he’s the answer to his every question, as if Ronan could find what he’s looking for whispered between the space of Adam’s lips.

Adam tries not to  bother figuring out the latter anymore because he knows he never will find a sensible answer. Knows that he’s never deserved Ronan and all Ronan’s brought to his world, transforming the muted grayscale of his carefully methodical outlook into vivid tones of impossibilities come true. No matter how much he loves Ronan, how he never wants to be without him. How Adam thinks Ronan has become a fixture in his very soul that he could never fathom breathing without, he still is so very inept. He still can’t tell him his feelings in so many words— much more preferential to gentle caresses and tender kisses that can bring his feelings to life—   and he knows he still comes off aloof and cold during their more real arguments— despite how sparing they might be. Adam can’t ever contort his mouth in the right ways to speak out loud words of comfort and vulnerability he was so deprived of once upon a time. But still, he tries. Adam tries because this’s Ronan, and he wouldn’t be true to himself if he didn’t give Ronan— give them— all he had.

“It’s not your fault,” Adam says, flicks off residue from one of the bright blue creepy-crawlies that had followed Ronan into the real world, from his legs.

Ronan’s only response is an indignant huff.

Looking at him now, Adam can’t help but marvel at how beautiful and sincere and unshielded he truly is. The dark shadows paint across his face and the light spills over him so that his profile is nothing but flat planes, made all the more sharp, and pale eyes shifting to a haunting, stormy grey rather than the icy oceans Adam has always known and has always ben able to see through. Eyes he’s been enthralled with since he had only viewed Ronan as the savagely handsome best friend of Gansey’s who infuriated him in ways Adam never was able to quite comprehend.

“Don’t. Don’t do that.” Adam tells him, moving so that they’re shoulder to shoulder. “Don’t push me out because you’re mad.”

“I’m not,” Ronan says, hurried and stubborn, his face morphing into something desperate. 

“Ronan,” Adam says, but actually means bullshit, and the translation seems to have gone through if the decidedly ceded expression that passes Ronan’s rough but handsome features is anything to go by.

“I hate that I can’t control it, that no matter what I do.”

“Hey,” Adam laces their fingers together and squeezes. “Nothing happened.” He kisses Ronan’s shoulder right then, is relieved when he feels the slight loosening of tension there. He’s suddenly, acutely thankful to all the stars above that Ronan can understand the spaces of words that go unspoken between them.

“This time,” Ronan sours, eyes flickering to their closed door and Adam understands him completely. Understands that Ronan doesn’t care if those poisonous arachnids had bitten him, Ronan never cared. The only thing Ronan cares about when concerning bringing back his uncontrolled dream things is the possibility that they could hurt any number of the three people he loves more than breathing. One, Adam, who sleeps right besides him every night. And the other two— their set of twins— are just right across the hall.

“It could so easily go wrong.”

“It won’t,” Adam says with more steel than even he expected.

“How do you know?” Ronan asks pleadingly. Hesitantly. Imploringly. Like someone would a prophet.

“Ro,” Adam says, quiet and tentative while he runs the pads of his fingers down Ronan’s cheek, tracing the outline of his nose and lips and jaw. Landing on the hollow where Adam could feel his heartbeat, swooping forwards to press another open mouthed kiss to it, revels in the sensation of Ronan carding a hand through his hair, nails lightly scratching Adam’s scalp. “I’m here for you, always. I won’t ever let anything happen to you or the kids, and I know you won’t ever either. Stop worrying, okay.” Another kiss on Ronan’s mouth, arms wrapped around his waste to pull him even closer. “Else you’ll start getting wrinkle lines and I’ll have to find myself a new trophy husband.”

“Pff,” Ronan snorts, rubs a ginger hand down Adam’s naked back. He can feel the cool scrape of the golden wedding band Adam’s got a matching pair too. “If anyone’s the arm candy here it’s totally you.”

“Fuck off.” 

“Lynch farms just got another expansion fuck face,” Ronan preens, and Adam loves him like this. Boasting and teasing and always, always so soft whenever he peers down at Adam. “Me and my heard are gonna blow fucking Wisconsin right off the map with our Dairy prowls.”

“Actually I think California’s now the state to beat for title of Dairy capitol,” Adam corrects with a nonchalant shrug.

“What the fuck ever shit head,” Ronan snipes, words full of humor.

“Come back to bed.”

“I shouldn’t,” Ronan frowns, and Adam doesn’t miss the fear, fear that’s only ever directed to himself, that ghosts across his face. He parts his lips to argue and chide at him that he needs to trust himself, but Ronan must’ve seen that coming from a mile ahead because he stops it with another resounding kiss that Adam can feel to his core.

“Had to be up anyways,” Ronan explains amidst heavy breaths that mirror Adam’s own. “Me and Opal were gonna check out that Farmer’s Market back in Henrietta and Declan wanted to join.”

“Fine,” Adam gripes, follows him out the bedroom to help collect the things he’ll be needing partially because  he’s too riled  up to go back to bed now, but mostly because he knows that if he leaves now Ronan won’t be back until late afternoon. He always misses him so achingly during these long trips away from their home.

God does Adam love that, the idea that he’s got this. He’s got a home that he gets to share with the man he loves more than any other and his two kids that he would willingly lay down his life for. Sometimes he has to stop and just take it all in, climb out of the memories of crying on the steps of the trailer wondering if anything was worth existing in that plane, and thinking that the kid he was finally found that worth.

Adam passes Ronan a thermos  of coffee for him and an herbal tea for Opal, sends him off with one final peck of farewell. 

“You should welcome me home with a martini,” Ronan goads, grin gone sharp and slightly feral. “Put on a slutty genie outfit?”

Adam pinches his forearm, hard.

“I will never play out some kinda  I Dream of Jeannie tableau for you dickwad, get over it.”

“You can’t blame a man for trying,” Ronan shrugs, goes off to kiss the tops of the kids’ sleeping heads and one more for Adam before he has to finally head out to the BMW.

Sometimes Adam forgets that these long days apart are just as hard for him.

.-

“Is it Daddy’s birthday?” Livvy asks, hiked brow and pinched lipped. 

“No,” says Adam while pulling out spare mixing bowls from the cupboard— a miracle that he even knows where they are if he’s being at all honest considering that the kitchen is Ronan’s realm of expertise and all Adam’s good for is washing dishes and occasionally toasting bread.

“Are you graduating again?” Gage— a near spitting image of his sister, with all their trappings of dark hair and intense eyes and thin lips, asks with owlish eyes.

“Not that either.”

“Then why on God’s green earth are we baking cupcakes?”

Jesus fucking Christ do these kids have some mouths on them. Adam would like to blame it totally on Ronan’s frame of mind that unfiltered speech is the only way he’d speak around his kids, everything else is disingenuous. But also Adam knows that ever since they had first brought them home, ten months old and just barely crawling, that they’ve gotten just as much of his cynical outlook than what Adam would’ve liked.

“Because squirt,” Adam pulls out his phone to search for a decently simple recipe he both had the ingredients on hand to bake, and one that wouldn’t turn out a utter mess. “Daddy woke up a bit sad this morning and I thought that if we made him this, it would show we were thinking bout him and he wouldn’t be so sad anymore.”

The twins look suitably cowed at that, both pairs of eyes going pleading and chorusing a thousand questions on whether Ronan’s okay and when he’ll be coming home and how they could help.

“He’s fine kiddos, just was gonna miss you guys when he went out with Opal and Uncle Declan today. But he’ll be home any minute so I wanna make sure this is done by then, kay?”

Gage nods with grave certainty, wielding a whisk like a weapon of war, but Livvy still looks a bit unsure.

“Aunt Blue says that your cooking should be considered a weapon of mass destruction.”

“Like a nuke!” Gage tacks on helpfully.

“Or mustard gas.”

“Ooo! Or like—“

“Neither of you are ever allowed to say the names of weapons out loud again! Not ever! Adam scolds with no actual heat.

“Hey, but what about,” Gage points to Chainsaw, who’s perching atop the refrigerator watching them. 

“Not my problem.”

They both role their eyes but don’t press the point.

“Papa are you sure you can do this?”

“It’s baking Liv, not cooking a full course meal.” He says, only slightly indignant.

“Ms Gomez says that science is just like baking and that’s why it’s way harder than just normal cooking.”

Adam’s expression goes flat.

“You get to crack the eggs!”

“Oh yay!” Livvy crows and Gage howls with the unfairness of it all.

.-

An hour and a half later finds their white marble top island of their spacious kitchen splattered with batter and oil and substances Adam isn’t sure he recognizes. There’s a tray of a dozen cupcakes in the oven but Adam isn’t quite sure that they’re meant to be staying flat, refusing to rise even once the halfway mark passes.

“Aunt Blue’s always right,” Livvy says sagely.

“Yeah, pretty much,” Adam can’t help but agree while frowning at the mess, his heart contracting the moment he hears the front door swing open and the recognizable thudding of Ronan’s farm boots.

“Oh joy,” he mutters as the kids dash off to the front parlor, leaping into Ronan’s arms, batter splattered hands and all.

“Mother of God Parrish,” he bellows, obviously in a better mood than this morning. “What are these changelings doing here and where are our actual kids?”

Adam can’t help the way his mouth dips down into a small, delighted grin, his heart doing palpitations at the sight of the three people he loves more than anything all together in one spot.

“No Daddy!” Livvy squawks. “It’s us!”

“We were making you cupcakes because we thought you were sad and we hate it when you’re sad and we love you and Papa is really bad at anything in the kitchen but he tried.”

“Thanks Gage,” Adam ruffles a hand in his hair, tugs softly on Livvy’s pigtail before kissing Ronan hello.”

“You taste like sugar.”

“I’ll take it as a compliment.”

Ronan’s answering laugh is something splendid. 

“You guys didn’t have to go through the trouble.”

“We love you Daddy,” Livvy argues, kissing the back of his hand and making Ronan’s expression go gentle in the way it only ever does for them.

“Thanks princess, love you more though.”

Livvy sticks out her tongue, contentious. 

“Look I’m sure your Pops has made the kitchen a living nightmare,” Ronan says, and Adam pulls a face at him, affronted. “So what about we go out to grab something sweet from Nothing But Buns?”

They chorus excited words of affirmation and Adam refuses to let Ronan in the kitchen till it’s cleaned up.

“Fuck, it looks like World War III or some shit in there, doesn’t it”

“One more crack at my cooking resembling a war zone and I swear I’m filing for a divorce,” Adam threatens.

Ronan just laughs and something deep in Adam’s chest blooms, pleased that at the very least the cupcakes had their intended effect.

[fidgetheart]

Love Me , Fight Me? ❤️

*cracks knuckles* 

okay! so, this drabble is featuring my og ocs from a WIP story called Bloodline! bc of that, I wanna preface it with some explanations real fast to (hopefully) prevent any confusion! tho, if any of y’all of questions, pls feel free to send them to me :3c

anyway, Bloodline takes place on a moon called Tahra, which orbits a gas giant called Lamarr. There are two other moons (Darwin and Fazlur) that orbit Lamarr, and overall, there are two suns instead of one, and they’re called Lam 1 and Lam 2. Tahra has one continent with a few islands around it, but is completely covered in water otherwise - the continent itself is pretty big, but not enough to nearly encircle the moon, if that makes sense

All four planetary bodies are named after gods, so you’ll see the names used in place of God, hell, etc. so: “Oh my Lamarr” is the equivalent to “Oh my god”, and “go to Darwin” is equivalent to “go to hell” bc Darwin is a dead moon 

deities are basically demigods, and the gods are… well, gods, and then you got regular people. deities have powers, but they pale in comparison to the gods, and they aren’t immortal, but they do have an increased lifespan

I actually got a sideblog for this (@bloodlinetrilogy), but I mostly just have a few moodboards and a couple of drawings o:

sdfjhsdfh right, anyway, the drabble is under the cut!! also it came out a hella lot longer than I intended whoops

major angst warning too

Love Me

“Looks like Arthfael’s got a crush.” Jocosa let out a snort, leaning back in her seat as she glanced toward her girlfriend, swallowing a giggle. “I’ve never seen him look so smitten.”

A bark of laughter escaped Eliza’s mouth and she shook her head, grinning as she quirked an eyebrow. “Jo, Arth hasn’t left her side since she arrived - you honestly think it’s just a crush?”

Jocosa couldn’t help but roll her eyes, glancing back toward the couple in question. She didn’t miss the way Arthfael was gazing at Elise, staring at her as if she were Lamarr herself, and she certainly didn’t miss the way Elise’s hand was resting on his. It was clear it was more than just a fleeting crush between the two, but… it was strange.

“You expect me to believe he’s fallen completely in love with a stranger?” She finally let out the giggle she had been holding back, turning away from Arthfael and Elise before she could be caught staring. “You know how long it took him to befriend Nike, he’s not the type to fall in love at first sight.”

Eliza shrugged, still grinning, and rested her chin in her hands. “Arth’s a strange one, what can I say?” Something flickered in her gaze, a look of knowing, as if there were more than she was letting on, but it was gone as quickly as it came.

Jocosa ignored it, deciding it was a trick of her imagination, but a thought pushed its way into her focus. Had they met before?

No. They couldn’t have - Arthfael rarely ventured into city, and when he did, he always stuck with the other deities. Even then, he preferred being amongst those he considered to be his friends. She hardly knew him, despite Eliza being one of them, but she knew enough about him that he only interacted with humans if it was necessary. And there was no doubt they couldn’t have met outside of Vencuro - had Elise ventured into Sifko, she would’ve been killed.

So what was it about Elise that captured his full attention?

Perhaps she would never know, and Jocosa was… alright with that.

With a grin, she held up her glass for a cheers, eyes sparkling with amusement. “Here’s so saying Arthfael actually has a heart.”

Eliza let out another laugh, tapping her glass against hers, eyes shining with amusement. “Gee, Jo, that’s a little harsh, dontcha think?”

Holding back her own laughter, Jocosa simply winked at her girlfriend before taking a swig of her drink. “Harsh?” She said, putting her glass down as she leaned across the table. “My love, you know it’s the truth.”

Her girlfriend said nothing, instead let out a hum of thought before she leaned across and kissed her nose, causing her to jerk back in surprise. “Whatever you say, dear,” she teased.

Jocosa felt her face flush, but she couldn’t help but giggle. “You just don’t like admitting I’m right, do you?”

There was another thoughtful hum from Eliza as she leaned back against her seat, a playful smirk appearing on her face. “If it helps you sleep at night, then sure, darling.”

“Oh, shut up.”

Fight Me

Jocosa stared out the window, expecting to see eyes gleaming back at her from the darkness, but there was nothing. Not that she could see, at least.

They were in Sifko, but miles away from the laboratory - the powerplant, whatever in Darwin’s name it had been. But she didn’t feel safe, and she doubted she would again. Not with those creatures, those mutants, free to roam the land.

What was worse was that she didn’t have the answers to the questions that buzzed in her mind like a swarm of angry wasps, and the questions that everyone else had. All she knew was that Burnam had allowed Greer to do as she pleased, to manipulate humans into working for her in the bunkers, creating monsters for no clear reason. But Greer was the goddess of chaos, and… she wasn’t sure if knowing that helped or not.

Greer thrived on chaos, creating it as she pleased despite having sworn long ago to not meddle in the affairs of deities and humans alongside the other gods. It didn’t matter if there was an ultimate reason for her actions - as long it caused confusion and mayhem, she was satisfied.

But why had Burnam agreed to all of it? He had the power he craved - he controlled everyone with fear and manipulation, and it worked well for him. Had Greer been promising him something? Had she promised him status as a god, in exchange for him hiding her from the eyes of the others?

The thought of Burnam becoming a god sent shivers down her spine, and Jocosa hugged herself tightly, ignoring her sweaty palms and fluttering heart.

She wanted to focus on the good that had come out of the Uprising. She wanted to focus on the fact Eliza had survived, that Burnam was dead and gone, and that Zahera had taken control of the chaotic situation swiftly and calmly. She knew it could’ve been so much worse - the Uprising could’ve come to a head in Vencuro. Burnam could’ve won, and Greer could still be free. But she couldn’t focus on that. Not with tensions still as apparent as Lamarr on the horizon.

The humans were up in arms, lashing out at any deity that came close, and she couldn’t blame them. Arthfael had turned colder, and it was clear he was not pleased with Zahera’s new leadership. Even Eliza seemed… distant. Everything felt wrong.

“Jo?”

Jocosa nearly jumped out of her skin, the voice breaking her from her troubled thoughts. She spun around, heart in her throat, and she let out a startled laugh, pressing a hand to her chest as she closed her eyes. “Lamarr, Eli! You scared me.” She opened her eyes, offering a weak smile, but it quickly faded when she saw her girlfriend’s near stony expression. “Eli? What’s wrong?”

Eliza stared at her, her gaze troubled, and she opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Instead, she let out a heavy sigh and shook her head, looking up toward the ceiling. “Jo… I… Can you sit down?”

Her mind spun, fear and worry clawing at her heart. Unable to speak, Jocosa moved toward the couch before sitting down, staring at the other deity, desperately trying to figure out what was going to be said.

Eliza remained still, her gaze still focused on the ceiling, as if she were unable to face her lover. It was clear she was troubled, and the way her body was tense made Jocosa feel she were bracing for a fight.

“Talk to me,” Jocosa rasped, voice far weaker than she had intended. She had wanted to sound stronger than she felt, to sound calm and assuring. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t get her words to take on that facade, and she couldn’t chase the fear that made the hair on her arms rise. “Please, Eli. You’re worrying me.”

Her girlfriend inhaled deeply, finally lowering her head to look toward her, her eyes gleaming with an unspoken challenge. She was defensive, and Jocosa couldn’t read why.

Finally, Eliza spoke.

“Zahera can’t be in charge.”

What?

Jocosa stared at Eliza, her mind going blank. The words died in her throat, but she couldn’t even figure out what they were. Why? She wanted to ask. I don’t understand. She wanted to say. What in Darwin’s name are you talking about?

Eliza didn’t wait, lifting her chin as if she truly were facing against someone willing to argue. “The last thing we need to do is go into hiding - to pull away from the humans. We can’t do what the gods did. After what happened, we need to mend the relationship with them, to make things right-”

“They hate us.”

Jocosa stared at Eliza, feeling dizzy and baffled, and saw her own confusion reflected on her girlfriend’s face.

“Of course they do. I don’t-”

“Zahera’s right, Eli. We need to take a step back, to let the humans get some sort of peace. They don’t trust us, and they can’t if we keep breathing down their necks.”

She wanted to cry the moment, those words came tumbling out, to take them back. But she could only watch as those words caused Eliza’s face to harden, growing defensive once again, and it was clear Eliza had made up her mind. Listen to me, she wanted to say, but her tongue stuck to the inside of her mouth. Please, my love.

“Of course they don’t trust us,” Eliza spat, her voice sharp, and Jocosa did her best not to wince. Her sharp tone had rarely been directed at her, and it hurt.

“Eli-”

“Listen to me!” Eliza’s lip twitched as if she were going to bare her teeth, her eyes flashing with anger and… desperation. “I know Zahera may mean well, but she can’t be trusted. Burnam trusted her for a reason - he made her his confidant for a reason, Jo. Burnam was the one who caused this shitshow in the first place, but we’re just as guilty. We followed his orders, and we need to show the humans that they can trust us. That we’re going to make things right.”

Jocosa said nothing, staring up at her girlfriend as she struggled to process what she was saying. Her words sounded like that of a madwoman, and despite the belief she clearly possessed in what she was saying, Jocosa couldn’t tell if she were still trying to convince her as well as herself.

“My love,” she began, her words gentle, a little stronger than before. “Eli, I… I don’t understand. Where is this coming from?”

Eliza shifted her weight, and for a brief moment, looked uncertain herself. “Arthfael,” she said simply. “We need him as a leader.”

Jocosa felt her heart sink, and everything seemed to stop. Arthfael.

Since the Uprising at the powerplant, he had been different. Not just colder, but… determined. Full of bitterness and hatred toward those he felt had stood in his way from the beginning to get rid of Burnam.

Suddenly, Eliza’s words made perfect sense. Her words were not her own - they were Arthfael’s. And it reminded her of Burnam.

Inhaling sharply, Jocosa got to her feet and stepped toward Eliza, staring at her in the eyes desperately as she reached out a hand to touch her shoulder, but stopped short, unable to do so. “Eli, don’t you hear yourself?”

Eliza stiffened, eyes flashing. “Of course I do.” Her words were hard. “And I hear what Arthfael is saying, and I agree with him. We need to be active in earning the trust of the humans - if we stand by them, protecting them from whatever in Darwin’s name escaped from the lab, they’ll start to trust us. We’d be able to live together, nothing like before. We’re different from them, sure, but… that doesn’t mean we get to be above them.”

“That’s not what Zahera is suggesting.” Jocosa’s words came out far sharper than she intended, but she was unable to hold herself back, anger finally flaring in her chest as she pulled away from her girlfriend. “She doesn’t want us to be above them, but she doesn’t want us getting in the way. We’ve hurt them, Eli, and it’ll be best for us to pull away for a while, so both sides can heal. We don’t need to be involved.”

Eliza scowled, turning away as she crossed her arms over her chest before spinning back around to face her. “But we do need to be involved!” Her voice was rising, her temper flaring. “We’ve hurt them, and we need to apologize! Zahera just doesn’t want to face the consequences!”

“I can’t believe you’re saying that!” Jocosa did her best to ignore the painful ache in her heart, and she wanted to plead with Eliza to calm down. To just drop the matter altogether. She hated arguing with her. She hated seeing her girlfriend’s temper flare, but it never flared at her. Not like this, and it felt like it was going to kill her. “Eli, please! Zahera doesn’t want to cause more problems! She wants to make things right, but we need to give the humans space! She wants to make up for the pain we’ve caused, but to do that we need to back off!”

Eliza scowled. “And then what? She hasn’t considered what to do about those mutants, has she? She knew what went on in the lab, and she did nothing. She knew of Burnam’s cruelty, and did nothing.” She stepped forward, fury blazing in her eyes. “She did nothing to stop him! Arthfael was the one formulating a plan to overthrow him! He was the one to put his life on the line, over and over again, to get to the truth! Zahera lied to us, Jo! We can’t trust her, and we certainly can’t trust anyone who supports her!”

“You’re sounding just like Burnam!”

The moment those words left her mouth, Jocosa wanted to take them back.

Eliza stepped back, her eyes widening and her anger dying, and she looked as though she had been struck.

And Jocosa couldn’t stop.

“Can’t you see? You’re sounding paranoid, trying to convince yourself that you’re going to be doing something for the greater good when you’re not! Arthfael isn’t in a good state of mind, and you know that! It’s dangerous, Eli! The talk of Zahera lying? Where in Darwin’s name is that coming from? She needed to be careful - she has a son! Burnam wouldn’t have hesitated to kill Yezekael, even though he’s only a child! You know that! She never asked to be in that position!”

Eliza’s gaze hardened once again, her posture straightening as the anger returned to her eyes, and Jocosa felt her heart sink.

“I thought you were smarter than this,” she said quietly, and Jocosa reeled back, a choked gasp escaping her mouth.

Eliza kept going.

“Yeah, Zahera has a son, so what? We all have someone we could’ve lost, and some of us did lose someone. Dessa lost her father, and she’s just a child. Atlas lost his little sister - she was hardly an adult. Arthfael lost Elise.”

Tears blurred her vision, and Jocosa swallowed a cry as they began to spill down her face. “You don’t need to remind me of the dead,” she choked, voice breaking as she collapsed onto the couch.

“Apparently I do.” There was an uncharacteristic coldness in Eliza’s gaze. “You said I sound like Burnam, but we know that’s not true.” She paused, clearly mulling something over her tongue. “I didn’t realize I had lost someone, too.”

Those words hurt more than a scorion sting.

Jocosa flinched, turning her gaze away as she shuddered, struggling to keep herself together. She wanted to turn those words back against Eliza. This wasn’t her, and it wasn’t Eliza. What is wrong with us?

“Leave.”

“Jo-”

Without thinking, she jumped to her feet, spinning to face Eliza, hot tears spilling down her cheeks as she stared at her. “Leave!” She took a step closer, desperate anger blazing in her heart. “I don’t care what you do - but I’m staying with Zahera! Following Arthfael will only repeat this, and you know it!”

Eliza stared back at her, her expression changing into shock, her eyes wide and mouth open. No words came out, and she slowly shook her head, taking a few steps back.

For a moment… Jocosa thought she had pulled herself together. Something in the other woman’s movements made her believe she had snapped out of a trance, but then Eliza stiffened once again, and her heart sank.

“Fine.” Her gaze was cold once more. “I get it. I really do, Jocosa, and I thought you were better than this.” With a shake of her head, Eliza turned and began to leave, but stopped, looking over her shoulder.

Jocosa stared at her, struggling to breath, and doing her best to keep herself together even as it felt the world was shattering around her. Don’t leave me, she wanted to scream. Please! I love you! Please don’t do this to me!

“Goodbye, Jo.” Remorse filled Eliza’s voice, and for a moment, her expression wavered, mirroring the devastation Jocosa felt. But, despite her wavering voice, the other woman turned away, and simply walked out the door.

A choked cry escaped Jocosa as she fell to her knees, sobbing as she buried her head in her hands.

The Uprising was supposed to have been an answer to her questions. It was supposed to have taken care of everything that had nearly destroyed them - it took Burnam’s life, and chased Greer back into control of the other gods. But it left her with more questions, and took away the one person she had loved more than anything.

It had taken Eliza, and what remained of her was someone completely different.

[gingercullenboy]

Movie Commentary Monday: Episode 1

Hello everyone and welcome to the very first episode of Movie Commentary Monday (or as i call MCM, which sounds ridiculous by the way) where I express my thoughts on a movie while desperately trying to be funny (and usually fail).

There will be dozens of side comments in brackets because I talk too much, sorry in advance.

This week’s movie is:

Isn’t It Romantic (2019)

Directed by: Todd Strauss-Schulson

Writing Credits: Erin Cardillo (screenplay&story), Dana Fox (screenplay) & Katie Silberman (screenplay)

Stars: Rebel Wilson, Liam Hemsworth, Adam Devine, Priyanka Chopra, Betty Gilpin, Brandon Scott Jones

Summary: A young woman disenchanted with love mysteriously finds herself trapped inside a romantic comedy.

(thanks IMDb)

Now, buckle up folks, it’s gonna be a loooooong ride. Let’s get down to business!

(this isn’t a Mulan reference)

Why is the Mom so bitter about happy endings? I bet she has seen things...

They don’t make movies for girls like us. 

THIS!!! LINE!!! IS!!! SO!!! IMPORTANT!!! 

That single sentence just basically summarized the entire history of Hollywood and you can’t argue with me on this. The evidence is there (sorry i’m bitter like mom) (i’m full of rage like younger john mulaney)

Natalie’s (Rebel Wilson) apartment is a mess and is so tiny, it’s like screaming YOUR FUTURE HOUSE at me, it’s unbelievable

Fucking finally, a realistic view of New York; smelly, crowded, and filth everywhere (not that i could ever know, i don’t live there but i’ve seen metropolitans before)

“STOP THE CART WITH YOUR BODY” WTFFF I’M CRYING THAT’S SO RUDE

Ok, Natalie’s a nobody at the workplace, even though she’s a fricking architect. UNREALISTIC TO ME

That co-worker and office manager can choke, that’s all I’m gonna say

Ohmygod, Whitney (Betty Gilpin) is so cute, I’ve seen her 10 secs in and I already love her (lovey dovey characters are always my faves)

JOSH (Adam Devine) IS AMAZING, ADORABLE DORK, PROTECT HIM AT ALL COSTS

LIAM HEMSWORTH’S AMERICAN ACCENT GOT ME SH00K!!! He just said “Goddamn it” and I am already hooked

Who puts whipped cream in a coffee? ME, BITCH

I PUT WHIPPED CREAM IN MY COFFEE BECAUSE BLACK COFFEE TASTES LIKE SHIT, SORRY THAT I’M NOT TOUGH AS YOU

Natalie says nice guy with a nice life and it... kinda bothers me. It’s a reaaaally generic expression and a bit insulting if you think about it bc if you don’t fit that person’s standards of being nice with having a nice life, it discourages you (in this case, you=man). So when Josh said “I’m a nice guy with a nice life” I thought ‘Of course you are’ bc he is in my standards. What I’m trying to say is that rom-coms have stereotypes on not only women but also men. Yes, it is sad.

Awwww Josh has a crush on Natalie *wipes happy tears* but she thinks he’s looking at the model billboard LMAO SAME, NAT

I’m so done (but it’s also so relatable, bc i’m like Nat but with less cynicism)

WHITNEY’S DESKTOP OMG

PAWSITIVE VIBES???? I WANNA MARRY HER SO WE CAN WATCH ROM-COMS WITH CATS ON OUR LAPS ALL DAY TOGETHER

Natalie was on the subway and a stranger waved at her. Then he tried to mug her. Then she knocked herself over. My mom always says don’t talk to strangers and I see why. I’m 22, if you’re wondering *clears throat* Moving on...

OH MY GOD SHE WOKE UP WITH THE MAKE-UP ON AND A NICELY DONE HAIR WITH FLOWERS AND STRAWBERRY DRINK ON THE SIDE, I CAN’T-

Oh, hello Mr. Morningstar... *wiggles eyebrows* (quick note, i don’t actually watch Lucifer but i really like Tom Ellis)

She just ripped her IV and blood didn’t spill everywhere, yeah this is a rom-com alright 

She’s dressed from lost and found and she looks like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman-

NO WAIT, THE ENTIRE SETTING HAS CHANGED

HOLY SHIT ‘A THOUSAND MILES’ BY VANESSA CARLTON IS STARTED TO BE PLAYED BY A RANDOM GUY ON A BIKE AND HE PLAYS IT FROM THE STEREO ON HIS BIKE I’M CACKLING

ENTER LIAM, HE LOOKS SO GOOD I CAN’T EVEN DESCRIBE (i’m a thirsty hoe, your suspicions are correct)

What the fuck does beguiling mean? *checks dictionary* oh, okay *is weirded out now*

HE’S AUSSIE NOW, THEY’VE DONE IT, HE’S KEEPING THE ACCENT, AND I’M HAPPY AGAIN

...Birds form a heart while flying... Uhhh... Strawberries and champagne in the limo... Rich as fuck, my poor ass can’t relate

NATALIE’S STREET HAS CHANGED, TOO

He’s giving her flowers already? Ok- NO WAIT

HE JUST WROTE HIS NUMBER ON MULTIPLE FLOWER PETALS AND HANDED TO HER, IS HE FOR REAL LMAO

“But there’s only one of you, so...” Well, this doesn’t change the fact that there are millions of ways to order the numbers, you dumbass (why is he like this)

Her apartment... Every Millenials’ dream

And... A gay neighbor/best friend who acts like an over-feminine gay (which is also a stereotype)

So, I’ll count every rom-com trope I’ve seen in 22 mins *counts her fingers* So far, I have seven tropes

The Big Presentation (eight)

Unconventional workplace which looks like a Google office (nine)

Nat is the star architect now (ten)

Rival bitchy colleague (eleven) (WHY DOES IT HAVE TO BE WHITNEY, THOUGH) (SHE’S MY SENSITIVE WIFE) (oh, she looks hot)

They gave like, four other tropes in two mins and it doesn’t feel like rushed at all *salutes respectively*

The setting change is so... Like, you cannot miss it, it’s sweet and makes you feel all giddy inside, it’s so lovely, so rom-com like (does that make sense to you?)

OH PRIYANKA, SHE JUST TURNED AND I’M LIKE “Oh I’m fucked”

“Josssssssh”

Natalie keeps falling (twelve)

“MY LIFE IS A ... ... ROMANTIC COMEDY!” “AND IT’S ... PG-13!″ EVERYONE STARTED DANCING BEHIND HER I’M HOLLERING 

The subway map behind her is shaped in a heart, lovey dovey couples everywhere... And shE’S GONNA JUMP ONTO A TRAIN??? THIS GOT DARK ALL OF A SUDDEN

Officer Hansom *facepalms*

She threw the flower petals and guess what? THE NUMBERS FELL DOWN IN THE CORRECT ORDER, WHO COULD HAVE KNOWN HAHAHA (thirteen)

Y’ello

Y’ELLO

Y’E LL O

IS THIS HOW AUSSIES ANSWER THE PHONE, AUSSIE MUTUALS PLEASE RESPOND

BLAKE (Liam Hemsworth) IS SO ADORABLE I’M ROOTING FOR EVERYONE IN THIS MOVIE 

Dress up montage... Yeah- Oh wait, they cut it out what the hell fvygbuhnj I WANT MY DRESS UP MONTAGE, GIVE IT TO MEEE

This is some fancy first date though... Also leaving 100 bucks tip doesn’t justify breaking in to a store I guess??? Seems like the law has no function in rom-coms lmao (fourteen)

BUTTER PECAN??? HOW OLD ARE YOU, 200 OR SOMETHING??? WHAT THE FUCK, MAN

The rain... You know what’s coming after- Ah, and they kissed *giggles uncontrollably* YES!!! (fifteen)

THEY CAN’T HAVE SEX BC IT’S PG-13 (liam’s abs, though) *bi scream*

Her apartment makes me cry, it’s so beautiful (ok i’ll stop counting from now on bc i cannot keep up anymore)

Also the romantic tension between Natalie and Josh................ I have no words

Isabella (Priyanka Chopra) calls Josh ‘Mush’ and it’s so f-king cringey, I swear to God sxrdctfvygu

STOP OVERSELLING NEW YORK, WE KNOW IT’S NOT THAT GOOD

I can talk about Blake for five hours, he’s so fucking funny lmao

Donny (Brandon Scott Jones) is such a gay sidekick, he comes out of nowhere and talks weirdly but he makes me laugh so I’ll give him a pass

NOW WE’RE GETTING SOMEWHERE, NATALIE’S GONNA STOP ISABELLA&JOSH’S WEDDING

That musical scene is everything, and Natalie hits that high note H AR D

GET IT, GIRL

Blake............ no-

I ROOTED FOR YOU, WE ALL ROOTED FOR YOU, HOW COULD YOU DO THAT-

Oh my, he’s a certified douchebag, I should’ve guessed, I’m so disappointed in myself 

Unexpected wisdom coming from Donny who had no function to the story other than appearing beside Natalie at random times (again, rom-com trope) 

BUT at least he made her realised who matters to her the most

Slow motion running!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 

Her boobs are like sxrdctfvyg SHAKING AS SHE’S RUNNING ESXRDCTFVYB (as someone who has big breasts, i relate to that so hard) 

“Yoga Ambassador. Yoga. Ambassador.” “Ambassadors are for countries, not for streching.” Dang, Nat!!!

She finally realised she loves herself! Awww, that’s so sweet and empowering and I can’t get enough of this!!!! Yes, to love someone else first you should love yourself!

Oh she crashed the car and went back to reality

Another hot doctor???? Wait, I’m confused- No, false alarm, she’s back and her real doctor is tired, is also swimming through lawsuits LMFAO

She pulled her IV and blood SPILLED EVERYWHERE AS IT SHOULD BE, THANK GOD

I’m glad that she’s happy with what she’s got and she didn’t decide to keep what she’s been doing but instead, tried to take care of herself, it’s such a good message to young girls and I cannot praise this enough

PLOT TWIST, DONNY IS ACTUALLY REALLY GAY AND HAS A BOYFRIEND AND IS ALSO A WEED DEALER OH MY FUCKING GOD I LOVE THE TWIST SO MUCH 

Natalie!!! Is!!! Confident!!! Now!!! I’m literally living for this *throws hearts to the screen*

OH MY WIFE IS BACK, HI WHITNEY I LOVE YOU MY SWEET SUMMER WIFE I MISSED YOU

Nat stormed into that meeting and she’s. on. fireeee

Real Blake is as jerk as ever, no surprise

Using parking lots as metaphors would never cross my mind but ok I guess???

Fuck, he said “What does beguiling mean?” I’M LOST FOR WORDS, THIS MOVIE SXDCTFVYGU

JOSH HAS BEEN LOOKING AT NATALIE FOR THE WHOLE TIME, NOT THE SWIMSUIT MODEL, WHO COULD HAVE THOUGHT???

ps. me and probably everyone else except Nat lol

EVERYONE SINGS

THIS IS NOT A DRILL

I REPEAT, EVERYONE SINGS AND IT’S SO GOOD

LIAM PLAYS THE SAX HOLY SHIT HE’S SO HOT I’M GONNA FAINT

Priyanka with that rose.......... Consider me dead, thank you

“It’s hot as fuck” tcfyvgubh probably true

Overall, I would give this movie 7/10 because of the message. Plot is nicely done and I got see basically every single rom-com tropes. At total, I counted 23 tropes I guess? If I could look every minor detail, I would count more but I won’t get into it that much for now. (i’m running late to a meeting with friends so i have to cut short)

I loved the production design, setting felt like I’m in a classic rom-com movie and characters were written accordingly. Every actor in the movie has fit perfect to me. I especially loved Priyanka and Liam because 1) I’ve never seen any of her movies and 2) It’s been a long time since I watched a Liam Hemsworth movie (i only watched hunger games, so you think about it lmao)

I guess that’s about it! I have a list for the next weeks’ movies but if you have a request then tell me so, I will watch your recommendations first! I appreciate comments; if you have something to add, please do. I will read every single one of them.

See you next week!

[meggannn]

ironically one of my favorite things about shepard/garrus is one of the things i think bioware did least successfully, at least for my personal taste. and i admit this is mostly cause i prefer developing/reading professional or emotionally reserved sheps (at least on the surface) who gradually open up to their li over time, over sheps who wear their heart on their sleeves from the beginning, and there are very few bw romances that really allow you to play that first kind of character, considering you, the pc, have to instigate the romance dialogue. there’s only so much a game can do to mimic a ‘real’ romance after all. even so i do prefer a bit of, if not subtlety, then.... tactfulness, i guess, when the pc pops the question, especially with a character like shepard who is so duty-focused and (until the proposing scene) never really indicated they were driven by their libido when looking for a partner (even if they were joking). so that “do you wanna bang” scene gives me such second hand embarrassment i gotta rewrite most of their entire me2 romance in my head and one day i’ll put it to a fic, but in the meantime...... i’ll just blab about it on tumblr dot com i guess....

like, i like the VIBE that is established. i like that in me2, we get confirmation that: a) garrus’s confidence in personal matters is absolutely nil when it comes to romance, much less an interracial romance; b) it sets up a real sweet theme of realizing they actually DONT know that much about each other’s culture or biology or anything related to their race, and the romance is staged to give them each time to do research on the other’s biology and anatomy (which is practical and common courtesy and the right thing to do! and also a little sweet when you consider how terrified garrus is of screwing it up!), c) however it started, whether facetiously or nervously or enthusiastically, these two are still able to have a nice moment together and acknowledge there are feelings between them that can (and if you ask me, do) still go unsaid. and in me3, we see them both (or at least garrus) in a bit more emotionally stable situation, maybe driven by a desire to see something go right in the middle of the war, so we establish a) garrus is still nervous and treading cautiously, but b) confident enough to prepare for a reunion, to articulate his questions about their relationship, to let shepard know he’s there for them regardless, and c) if you confirm the relationship, shepard and garrus can tease each other as friends and work together as soldiers and still have a supportive emotional/intimate partnership in their private time. 

i just think you can have all of these angles to their relationship without the current get-together. imo you lose a lot of possible development and depth when you start all of this by having shepard walk in and say “heyyyyyyy let’s you and me ‘‘‘ease some tension’’’ together ;) :) ;) do you see me winking”, like.... how does a commanding officer say that to another adult they respect and (possibly) genuinely like, idk. it seemed like such a lazy way for the writers to get them into bed together without considering who these people are. and yeah, every shepard’s different, it’s possible someone found that very ic for their shepard. personally i’ve always been more of a fan of piecing together canon clues to tell me who the pc is and extrapolating an oc from there, and what most of canon tells me, is that shepard is someone who prioritizes duty (either to the alliance, or to saving innocents, or to just getting the job done) above nearly all else, including their own personal life. that doesn’t mean i don’t see shepard being an instigator or an occasional flirt. just......

bleh. is it too much to want a better get together than “let’s fuck”? idk. i feel like a whiner bc shepard/garrus is obviously the most popular pairing in the fandom, it dwarfs so many others in content and you can’t throw a stone without meeting an insufferable stan, and here i am complaining about it not being done my way. i guess i just feel like the writers listened to the fans who wanted garrus as an li from me1, but didn’t listen to why. they drew the shortest line between a and b (“they want to bone the alien? here you go, i guess!”) and left it at that.

i mean admittedly, left up to me, i’d stuff so much drawn-up pining into a canon shepard/garrus get-together that neither of them would be able to breathe through the ust. there’s a line i like in kaidan’s romance (not to hijack a shenko line for a shakarian thing, but it’s something i find so true to shepard’s character i adopt it for my shepard too, even though i don’t romance kaidan and save ashley) when shepard tells kaidan in the moment that she needs a shoulder, not a subordinate, and kaidan says “cut me a little slack, shepard, it’s not like you’re easy to read.” that is how i tend to play and read shepard: as someone who is emotionally available for their crew but plays things close to the vest with their own feelings. paired up with garrus, who is a better turian than he thinks and is pretty goal-oriented and professional under shepard’s command, it’s hard for me to believe these two would just fall into bed with each other after only one or two conversations of known build-up (stressing “known” here is as “acknowledged feelings” but could also be notable ust, which is my hc). in my reading, these two are much better at reading others (c-sec and officer training) than themselves, and one could argue are duty-driven enough to maybe not even bring up/realize their attraction until me3 (why couldn’t garrus have been an li in me3 for new romances or mshep!!!! who tf knows!!!!!)

all those times femshepard tells garrus she loves him in me3? not really my shepard’s style..... how’s an earthborn kid who’s been a marine all their adult life and never had a family or serious relationship know how to recognize and admit love out loud? garrus himself doesn’t tell shepard he loves them till the beam run, and even then, he barely whispers it. i have to turn my freaking speakers up just to hear him. it’s hard for him to say out loud. maybe turians have different language for it, or maybe there’s a stigma, or maybe the culture’s different. i dunno! but i keep thinking about the impact it would’ve had for that to be the first time shepard says it, too. like they’ve just realized it and want to get it out because they know it’s the end. or you could get away with not saying it at all, if you pick the renegade option. or you could have them try to say it and fail! come on, isn’t that sadder?

shepard wants to say -- she doesn’t know what she wants to say. whatever great emotion she’s been holding back since that night in her cabin is stuck in her throat and refuses to form. the bay door can’t remain open for long. garrus’s skull is caked with dark blue blood, his leg bent awfully, and shepard sees a sharp, snapped edge to his armor where his spur used to be. he should be in the med bay. he needs medical attention more than he needs to be wasting time saying goodbyes.

but he won’t go, he refuses, he won’t leave her be. “shepard -- i’m still good. just give me my gun. i can still fight.” blood dribbles into his eye from a crack in his forehead. he’s crouching so low to stand that he nearly meets her height. she’s never heard him plead before.

“vakarian -- ” her voice is hoarse when she talks; her throat burns. she’s been shouting all day. she’s surprised she can still talk at all. “don’t make me give you an order.”

“that’s not fair.” he laughs desperately, a bit disbelieving. half of his visor is dangling, interface dead; his armor scorched and chipped across the carapace; and his eyes, still, are locked on hers. “don’t -- shepard. please.” she’s ever heard him plead before.

“shepard,” tali says quietly under garrus’s arm. her helmet is cracked, badly, suit ruptured in a dozen places. but shepard hasn’t heard a single complaint from her, from either of them, and she realizes in this moment that she can’t let them go on. if they followed her, they’d follow her through hell again, follow her until they dropped, and she cannot abide by that.

“we’re in this -- ” garrus coughs, badly. fresh dark blood spits up from his throat; spots hit shepard’s chestpiece. his eyes water. “we’re in this ‘till the end. shepard.”

she’s never pleaded in her life either; she will not start now. “i need.” her voice is too hoarse, too quiet; he can’t hear her over the roar of the thrusters. she swallows, tries again. “i need to know people are getting out of this alive. i need you to be one of them.” to tali: “both of you.”

garrus stares at her, lost for words. “shepard,” he whispers. he looks prepared to say something great, and she readies herself for another argument -- but then she sees the moment the fight leaves his eyes, the moment lays down his gun, and she hates herself for being relieved. “just,” he says, “make sure that includes you too.”

harbinger roars in the distance; she glances to the great white beam heading their way, then back to the bleeding pair of them, waving firmly toward the ship as she moves off the gangplank. “go! tali -- take care of him!”

she realizes belatedly that those will be logged as her final words, and the last he’ll remember her by. and then he’s gone, and so is the normandy. the moment is over and she’s missed her chance. she thinks, garrus will understand. he couldn’t say it either.

i mean that’s garbage but i like it better than shepard dropping the l-word in every romance scene! fuck! i just want a little nuance ok leave me alone