#happens every few months or so and it's mildly aggravating every time

[rocketbirdie]

i see it's that time of the year again where people start hating on the english localization of remake/rebirth despite having next to no understanding of how large scale translation projects work 🙃

[pellucid-constellations]

My Everyday

Pairing: College Athlete!Bucky x Reader

Summary: Bucky Barnes was aggressive, annoying, and—worst of all—a hockey player. Not your type. At all. But, unfortunately, your roommate. 

Word count: 5.5k

Warnings: Minor injury, idiots in love <3, some angst, pining

a/n: My first fic in a century!! Thank you so much for reading if you’re still here. Depending on how this does I hope I’ll have motivation to write more! College athlete Bucky never fails to get me inspired :)

Masterlist

~~

“What’s this punks name again?” 

The breath you let out was long and excruciating. “I am not repeating myself.” 

“C’mon, y/n,” Bucky whined, knocking his head back on the couch. He watched you bustle around the kitchen from his inverted vantage point. “How the hell am I supposed to swoop in and save the day if I don’t even know the kid’s name?” 

“Okay, well, first of all—” the fridge door clicked shut with a swift motion of your hips “—he’s not a ‘kid’. I’m pretty sure he’s a few months older than you.” 

“Semantics.” 

“And second of all,” you stressed, pointing a butter knife in his direction. “There will be no ‘swooping in’. I’m going to have a nice date and you are going to go hang out with your puck rabbits or whatever they're called. There will be no thinking about me and no swooping in my vicinity.” 

Bucky rolled his eyes, kicking up from the couch and rounding the kitchen counter to pick at your sandwich. You knocked his hand away several times, but you both knew it was futile. In the months you’d been living with the hockey player—who was far too big for the small, shoebox of an apartment you leased—you’d learned that food was non-negotiable for Bucky Barnes. 

There were many other things you’d learned about him as well. He sang in the shower, but only when he thought you weren’t home. He had an annoying penchant for using your $30 lotion—again, when he thought you weren’t home. And he loved to throw his massive, smelly gear just about anywhere it would land right when he got home from every practice. 

He didn’t really care if you were home for that last one. 

Bucky was the last person you thought you would be rooming with when you posted that ad last summer. A small, quaint room previously occupied by your now engaged (and traitorous) best friend, you assumed someone like-minded to yourself would have taken you up on your offer. The price point wasn’t egregious and the building was relatively close to campus. 

But weeks ticked by, and you started getting desperate. Your landlord wasn’t a nice lady, something you were positive she took pride in, and she decided that a rent increase was the perfect way to ring in the new school year. You were on the verge of destitution, and as it so happened, the only other person as desperate as you was the starting center for your college’s hockey team. 

You hardly got along. It had taken weeks for your eye to stop twitching every time he tumbled through the front door at three in the morning, and even longer for you not to feel an infuriating aggravation at his random, nighttime smoothies. You supposed he probably felt the same about your cleanliness rules and your incessant reminders about trash days. Because Bucky was in charge of bringing the trash down those long, apartment steps. Not you. 

But you’d be lying if you said things hadn’t gotten easier as of late. Conversation flowed more smoothly, things that made you seethe before were only mildly annoying, and Bucky was being… considerate? You weren’t quite sure what to call the random cups of coffee he brought home on occasion. Or his sudden urge to warm up your car when he had a morning class before yours. 

There was also the case of that party last weekend. A frat party with far too many drunk men and not enough common sense, you had had the urge to leave the second you got there. But Wanda had dragged you along for the sole purpose of driving her home after she got hammered, so you were essentially stuck. 

It was fine at first. Hot and crowded and loud, but fine. You kept a general eye on Wanda and scrolled aimlessly on your phone in the armchair you claimed. And then it wasn’t fine, because a man twice your size was encroaching on your space and unrelenting. 

“What kinda girl comes to a party and doesn’t even wanna talk to anyone?” 

“You want to come up to my room and watch a movie or something?” 

“Hey, I’m talking to you, bitch.” 

You weren’t even aware that Bucky had been at that party. It wasn’t surprising—the line between fraternities and sports was blurred at your college—but the space he took up as he intercepted the man in front of you was.

~~

“There a problem here?” Bucky posed, crossing his arms over his chest, his presence looming above your seated position. His weight shifted to his toes.

The man didn’t miss a beat. “Yeah, you. Move.” 

“Wanna fucking tell me what to do again?” 

“Fuck you, man.” 

A harsh shove to Bucky’s chest was all it took for a right hook to echo in the living room of the frat house. There was chaos. Grunts and screams from the drunk people surrounding the unnecessary fight created a cacophony of unpleasant sounds that seemed to get the attention of someone in charge. The man—Brian, you had now learned based on screams—was pulled back from Bucky and getting chewed out by some president or manager of something. 

And Bucky was seething, chest rising and falling laboriously as he wiped at the new bruise forming on his face.

Fights were not uncommon. But this one had been about you. For you.

“Bucky?” you asked when the crowd calmed and Brian was no longer in the room. 

You watched his back release its tight coil. He turned. “Are you okay?” 

The words were almost lost in the noise of the crowd, but he was close enough that they created a tactile vibration across your skin. His pupils were dilated and he looked so disheveled it would have been charming if there wasn’t also a cut forming on his brow. 

“Y/n.” 

It took you a moment to realize that you hadn’t answered him. Your response fell out of you as if you’d been shoved. “I’m—I’m fine.” 

He grunted, but it was more of a puff of air. “The fuck was that guy?” 

“I don’t know,” you replied, realizing by the way you swayed that you had stood up at some point. “He just—” 

“We’re going home.” 

“What? I can’t, I’m here with Wanda. I’m driving her, Bucky, I can’t just leave.” 

He grabbed your wrist, the grip achingly soft compared to the blows he was landing minutes before. “She left with that British guy she’s been on and off with. Asked me to tell you.” 

That explained his random appearance. Your brows pinched as you took in the information, eyes cast down to the angry red marks marring Bucky’s knuckles. He’d been in fights before. So many fights. On the ice. 

This was different. 

“I haven’t been drinking—I can drive myself home. You don’t have to leave,” you shouted over the music now bumping in the room. 

He didn’t respond, not verbally. He pulled you to his front instead, leading you through the impossible crowd until cool night air began melting into your skin. His silence was strange. Bucky’s favorite activity was talking your ear off until you told him to shut up, but right now… nothing. Even his earlier words had been clipped. 

You felt responsible for easing the tension in the air as Bucky continued to guide you to your car. You hadn’t told him where you parked, but he seemed to know the exact location anyways.

“You really don’t have to leave with me,” you mumbled. “It wasn’t a big deal or anything.” 

“It was a big deal.” 

~~

The drive home had been silent. The walk to the door had been as well. Bucky spent a few minutes appraising you in the overhead light of the living room when you got inside, but after that there was nothing. He went to his room and you went to yours. 

There was no discussion about it the morning after, either. Bucky apparently wanted to pretend nothing ever happened, so you respected that. Even now, you ignored the fading cuts on his hands as he shoveled food into his mouth.

Bucky’s next words were muffled by a mouthful of bread. “Well where’s this dude taking you at least?”

“Ice skating.”

The cough and sudden exasperation was very expected out of the man next to you, Bucky’s next words hardly containing syllables. “Huh?” 

“We’re going ice skating,” you reiterated. You picked up your lunch and headed for the living room, ignoring the slightly heaviness in your chest. “It’s winter and ice skating is festive. The rink on campus has decorations.” 

“Without me? Y/n, you’re gonna let some guy who probably doesn’t even know how to skate—” 

“Bucky—” you attempted to interrupt. 

“—drag you around the rink like a rag doll?” he continued, holding his hand up to mute your incoming speech. “I’ve asked you to come by the rink, like, a ton of times. You’ve never shown any interest.” 

You rolled your eyes and shot him a cross look as he picked your feet up from where they rested on the couch and dropped them into his lap. He went on with his rant for a little while longer, knocking his head back against cushions and accusing you of being a bad roommate. You had a few rebuttals of your own, but there was a reason you had never accompanied him to the rink. 

A good reason. 

You didn’t date athletes. 

It was true that simply going to visit Bucky at a practice, or letting him be the one to drag you around the ice like a rag doll, wouldn’t mean you were in a relationship by any means. But it would be an extra step. And if you were being honest with yourself, it would only take a few of those extra steps for the irritation you felt towards Bucky to melt into something else. 

And you didn’t date athletes. 

You did not. 

You didn’t have the time, nor the patience, to put up with the cheating, the anger issues, or the crazy schedules. And there wasn’t a single athlete you’d met at your sport-centered university that was willing to compromise on any of those subjects. Especially the cheating. You’d learned that the hard way after dating a lacrosse player for approximately one month before receiving the dreaded DM from a girl you had never met. 

The man hadn’t even given you the courtesy of pretending he didn’t know what she was talking about. He just admitted to his wrong-doing and shrugged. Shrugged. 

So athletes were not exactly in your good graces when it came to dating. 

“Are you even listening to me?” Bucky cut through your thoughts, patting your shin in impatience. 

You blinked and reoriented yourself, focusing on the hairs that fanned across Bucky’s face. “Of course I am,” you lied. “But my answer is still the same. I’m going on my date and you are not going on my date.” 

He groaned, apparently giving up as he cradled your legs closer to him to lean over and grab the remote from the coffee table. He flipped the channel to ESPN—typical—and you ate your sandwich, silently cursing him. He had a TV in his room. 

“When is it?” he suddenly asked, breaking the silence that had knitted itself into a comfortable blanket over the room. 

“Tonight,” you answered plainly. 

The arms atop your legs tensed. 

~~

The dichotomy of the man sitting beside you was impressive. On one hand, he was so full of himself that he had missed almost all of your conversation starters due to being so transfixed by his reflection in the rink’s glass. He had yet to ask you a single question about yourself and had insisted that the four other girls skating tonight were in love with him. 

On the other hand, he was, quite possibly, the most uninteresting person you had ever met. You were usually very quick to laugh, but every word out of his mouth was almost painful. He wouldn’t stop talking about his ex-girlfriend, gave you one word answers about anything other than baseball, and was honestly really terribly at ice skating. You were no pro either, but you found yourself on your back every time he tried holding your hand.

The tumble five minutes ago had you seeking out the penalty box on the side of the rink. You needed a break, you had told him, hoping he would continue on making a fool of himself and give you a moment alone. But he followed you instead, and was now sitting beside you, talking about baseball.

You supposed that was better than making you fall while talking about baseball.

“I bet we could do that,” he remarked, pointing out onto the ice and catching your attention. A couple who clearly had more experience than you was twirling each other around. “We definitely could. I pick up good speed.” You cringed. “I really don’t think we should try, Sean. My tailbone is already pretty bruised.” 

“Oh, c’mon! I won’t try the throwing part, just the twisty stuff.” 

“We are literally on rental skates. You will kill me,” you deadpanned. You were tired at this point and seriously questioning why you thought ice skating was a good first date idea. 

Well, there actually was an answer for that. But you were not going to think about the hockey player that popped into your head when Sean asked you on a date in the dining hall last week. 

Definitely not. 

“I’m not going to let my date think I’m boring,” Sean groaned, yanking you up from your seat. 

You gave a few tugs and words of resistance but they were ultimately useless. You figured it would be just as useless to tell the guy you already thought he was boring. He probably wouldn’t even hear you. 

On unsteady skates, Sean guided you to a mostly cleared corner of the rink and gripped your forearms. He squinted as he surveyed the area, the corner of his mouth turning up in a way that made your stomach roll. This entire date had been a bad idea.

“Maybe we should just watch them do it,” you tried, words wavering. 

“No!” he grinned. “No, we got this. It’s gonna look so cool.” 

And then you were spinning. You’d never been spun against your will before, but it sucked. Your skates kept getting stuck in the divots in the ice and the grip on your forearms was close to bruising. You were starting to get dizzy and Sean showed no signs of caring. God, he really was dragging you around the rink like a rag doll. Bucky was going to get a kick out of this.

“Okay, ready?” Sean called, an unwarranted jubilation in his tone. 

“What?” you yelled. 

He didn’t answer you. Instead, he let go, and you went flying in another direction without a clear path. It only lasted a moment, but the sound of your head smacking onto the ice signified the end of that movement. You landed on your arm next, and then your back. Again. 

This time felt different though. Your head was spinning and there were muted pinpricks trailing up to your wrist. The ache there was dulled compared to the biting iciness in your back, but as soon as you tried leaning on it to get up, it became sharp.

“Oh shit!” came Sean’s laughter-filled gasp. “My bad. I really didn’t mean to let go.” 

You blinked a few times to clear the blurriness from your vision but it proved unhelpful. “I think… I think my arm’s broken.” 

“Wait, seriously?” he asked, wobbling down to a seat beside you. 

“Yeah, it’s—”

“Everything okay over here?” a voice interrupted. You tried blinking again to take in the man that towered over the two of you, but the lights overhead washed him out. 

You recognized him…maybe? You felt like you were going to throw up. 

Sean answered for you. “Yeah, man, we’re fine. She just fell.” 

“Y/n, are you okay?” the man asked, ignoring your date completely.

“Do I know you?” you slurred.

You thought you heard a curse. “What made you think throwing her around was a good idea?” 

“Dude, it wasn’t even that fast. Or my fault. She just couldn’t keep her feet under her.” 

“Well, dude, maybe you should go home.” 

Sean scoffed. “Right, and who’s going to take this one home?” 

Your head was starting to hurt with all of the back and forth. The man that just joined, the taller one, kneeled down beside you. His blonde hair cast a harsh glare that had you squinting again. 

“You want me to call Bucky?” he asked.

Bucky? How would he know Bucky? Blonde hair began morphing into a man in your memory, and you reached for the material of his shirt, looping it between your fingers.

“Steve Rogers?” you mumbled. 

The man, now identified as Steve, sighed. “I’m calling him. Go home, Sean. Her roommate is coming to get her.” 

There was more discussion, something about Steve having the authority to kick him out and Sean not understanding what all of the fuss was about. Steve warned him about something and Sean scoffed as if the situation was beneath him. And then he left. 

Steve was then in your line of sight again, brows pinched together and a bright orange vest covering his shoulders. His hands hovered in front of you as if you’d break if he touched you and you almost found it funny. Steve was a huge guy with a lot of authority on Bucky’s team, but right now he looked like a scared animal. 

“Why are you dressed like a construction worker?” you asked. 

A small smile graced his face. “I’m working at the rink today. Everyone on the team has to take shifts during the holidays.” 

“Hmm,” you hummed. “I think my arm is broken.” 

“I know. I’m pretty sure you have a concussion too. Let’s get you off the ice, yeah?” 

You tried to nod, but that hurt too much so you let Steve assist you in shakily standing up. He guided you to the seats by the rental skate counter with a soft but sure hand on your back, asking some guy named Antonio for an ice pack. Everything around you felt like a fever dream. 

Gentle touches rolled the sleeve of your sweater back to reveal a swollen wrist that Steve immediately covered with an ice pack. 

He cursed again. “Well he’s gonna be pissed.” 

“Who?” Your head swayed with the question. 

Steve looked up to meet your gaze, lips parting to answer, when he was replaced by a different face. Your brain was having trouble keeping up with everything, obviously, because Bucky was in front of you now. He was kneeling between your legs with his hands on your face and you had no idea where Steve went. 

“What the fuck?” you blurted out. 

“Hey, y/n.” Bucky spoke your name low and soothing, his fingers moving to your eyes where he pried them open one at a time and looked for something you couldn’t see. His next words were directed over his shoulder. “Maybe a concussion. Tell me what happened again?” 

“Sean Marcus was being an ass. Flung her all over the place,” Steve replied. 

“Why are you here?” you interjected, trying to focus on one thing at a time. “I told you not to come on my date.” 

Bucky moved his assessment to your arm next, shifting the ice pack. “Never really agreed to those terms.” 

He turned back to Steve after that, having another discussion that you barely understood. Bucky absentmindedly fiddled with the material of your jeans as he spoke, and you put all of your energy into not face planting on the ground. This past week had truly been a series of terrible events with terrible men. 

After some amount of time elapsed, you were walking to the parking lot with a jacket thrown over your shoulders and Bucky continuously jutting a hand out each time you took a step. He was very well versed in concussions, apparently. 

“Okay, in you go, killer,” Bucky prompted, opening the passenger door. 

You eyed the front seat, scrunching your face up. “My arm hurts.” 

The man in front of you seemed to soften, his shoulders dropping on a long exhale. “I know, sweetheart. But we gotta go to the hospital to fix that. I’ll make sure it doesn’t hurt anymore.”

“I should just call Wanda. Or Nat. You don’t have to be the one to take me.” 

“I can take you just fine.”

“Why do you want to you? Aren’t you busy?” 

Another long sigh, this one accompanied by hands on your shoulders, fingers at the base of your neck. “Get in the car.”

His eyes were boring into yours, searching for something, or maybe already finding it there. You still had your arm cradled to your chest and you titled your head to the side as you observed him. There was something else to his gaze that you couldn’t quite describe. It reminded you of his expression after he came home from a rough game. Angry. Discontent. 

“You’re being weird,” you commented, breaking the silence you had created. 

“You broke your arm and smacked your head on the ice,” he simply replied, as if the statement was an explanation. 

“Yeah, but—” 

“And then that douchebag did nothing about it,” Bucky interrupted. “So please, y/n, get in the car so I can help you before I find him and kick his ass. Because you know I’m not above fighting people.” 

You blinked, and then slid into the front seat. 

The drive was quiet. You’d never been in Bucky’s car before, but the spinning in your head didn’t give you much space to inspect it too closely. You caught hockey gear in the back, a keycard to the rink dangling off the rearview mirror, and a small collection of hair ties in one of the cupholders. One caught your attention.

“Hey, this one’s mine.” You picked up the purple band and rolled it between your fingers. “Thief.” 

Bucky snatched it back. “Mine now.” 

He made a sharp turn that had you sucking air between your teeth and repositioning your arm. Bucky sent you a quick, achingly apologetic look. 

“Sorry, almost there.” A long beat of silence and then a mumbled, “I should keep your hair tie. You won’t be able to do your hair alone with a broken arm anyway.” 

~~

Your wrist was fractured, not broken. You also only had a minor concussion. This was all great news to you, especially since they told you after administering a hefty amount pain reliever. To Bucky, this was apparently terrible, life-altering news. 

After practically body slamming into the front door of your apartment, he chucked his wallet and keys down on the kitchen counter and began grumbling to himself as he opened and closed kitchen cabinets. You watched from a distance, half amused, half concerned for the rusting hinges. He finally found what he was looking for—a cup—and continued to mutter to himself as he filled it with gatorade. 

“Are you… okay?” you asked tentatively. 

Bucky ripped the freezer open and manhandled three to four ice cubes. “I’m fine. You are not.” 

“I’m okay now,” you assured. Bucky stalked over to you anyways, pressing the sports drink into your hand that was not wrapped in a cast.

You looked down at the glass and sent him a baffled look. He nodded at it and raised his brows, a silent demand for you to drink. 

“Okay. And why do I need to drink gatorade?” Your words were slow. 

“You were just on the ice and haven’t had any water for at least three hours.” 

“Bucky,” you began. “I was ice skating recreationally for about thirty minutes. I don’t need to replenish my electrolytes.” 

“Will you just… will you just drink the damn drink?” he groaned, gesturing to it with a firm hand. “Jesus, I can’t take care of you when you go and get yourself hurt by idiots. So just let me do what I know I can do, alright?” 

“You don’t have to take care of me.” You were beginning to raise your voice, matching some of the frustration in the room. 

Bucky threw his hands in the air, tugging at his roots on the way down. He moved further into the kitchen and leaned against the counter with stiff, rod-like arms propping him up. And then he sighed, long and profound as if this was the hardest conversation he’d had all year. His head hung heavy between stiff shoulders and you felt the environment shift. 

You almost wanted to intervene on his thoughts again, to make some comment about the dishes in the dishwasher or pretend you were going to go take a nap. But he had something to say, something you needed to hear, and so you stayed. You blinked and clenched your fist in the uncomfortable silence, but you stayed. 

“Y/n, I want to take care of you,” Bucky breathed out, words still directed toward the floor, almost too low to make out. “I’ve been tryna get you to see that for weeks now, but you’ve either got no clue or you want absolutely nothing to do with me.” 

You stopped blinking, stopped fidgeting, stopped breathing altogether. You watched as Bucky drummed his fingers against the counter and still refused to look up. You swallowed hard because you weren’t clueless, but also because you wanted everything to do with Bucky Barnes. 

And nothing at the same time. 

“Bucky…” you began, with a tone of surprise you weren’t sure was believable.

“Don’t do it yet,” he stopped you. “Don’t…don’t tell me no yet. I’m still pissed as hell that you got hurt and you shouldn’t be alone with a concussion. I don’t need you avoiding me when you can’t even drive a car.” 

“You’re being presumptuous.” 

He snapped his head up, his eyes rushing back and forth between your own. The drumming on the counter ceased, instead replaced by balled up fists turning white under days old cuts and fading bruises. He didn’t say anything. You searched the empty air for a reply. 

“I wouldn’t avoid you. I don’t know if I could avoid you—not anymore. You’re sort of a big part of my life now.” A good start, you thought. Not a real answer, but not a rejection. 

Bucky bit the inside of his cheek and eyed the drink still perspiring in your hand. You set it down at his observance, moving closer to his slumped posture in the kitchen. 

But Bucky stood up straight at your movement, becoming guarded, stiff. “I shouldn’t have said anything. Bad timing, just forget it. You should try and get some sleep.” 

“I don’t want to forget it,” you softly spoke, shaking your head.

He clenched his jaw. “And I don’t want to hear that you don’t feel the same way about me that I feel about you. Not right now. I feel like I’m going insane, watching you go out on dates and having my best friend tell me that my girl—that’s not really my girl—is all banged up on the ice because of some asshole.” 

You opened your mouth to speak, but Bucky kept going, now pacing in the kitchen. “I mean, y/n, you’re my everyday. I wake up and you’re making coffee. You text me in class to ask what I need at the grocery store and then I call you after practice to make sure you got back to the apartment. I think about you so god damn much and I can’t believe there was a time in my life that I didn’t get to end my day in a home that has you. And you’re just my roommate. You want nothing to do with athletes, I get it—” he added, catching your eye in the middle of his rant, “—but, shit, I haven’t even looked at another girl since… well it doesn’t even matter.”

“Tell me,” you whispered. There were a million other things you could’ve said, a million explanations that would have made sense. But the two soft words stopped Bucky from tracking holes in the ground. They shoved him from his shallow breaths and made him look at you. 

And, god, did he look at you. You must have been worse for wear. A hospital visit mixed with one too many tumbles onto solid ice probably had your hair in disarray and your face pressed with exhaustion, but his gaze was revering. Candy-coated red with soft blues melting below brows that fluxed with the movement of his lips; Bucky was beautiful, and he was looking at you as if you matched.

His tone confirmed as much, light and saccharin as he said, “That dumb movie a few weeks ago, the one about the superheroes. Your friends wouldn’t watch it with you so you made me. You were so excited even though it was awful and you were out like a light within the first hour. You rolled over onto me and I wasn’t gonna wake you up so I sorta just held you.” 

He paused, trailing his eyes up to the light fixtures. “At the risk of sounding pathetic, it felt like I had you, you know? Like we were going through all our usual motions, but after I annoyed the hell out of you and you told me off, you were mine. I can’t… I can’t really picture that with another girl.” 

There were very few times you had considered yourself speechless. But with Bucky Barnes standing in front of you, red-faced and vulnerable and still wearing the stupid hospital nametag they made him put on in the waiting room, you had no words. There was none of the arrogance you usually associated with him, no short-temper or pestering taunts. It was just Bucky, and he was pouring his heart onto the kitchen floor. For you. 

“You get why you can’t tell me no just yet?” he asked, trying to get something out of you. Anything. “You can break my heart, but let me just make sure you’re okay first. And I can’t beat the shit out of Sean if we aren’t on speaking terms.” 

The laugh that left you was one of disbelief, but the breathiness and accompanying tears fit the heaviness of the room. Your glossy eyes met Bucky’s and something flashed on his face, but it was soon out of your line of sight because you were kissing him. You were kissing him hard and your bodies were too close for the cast between you but it didn’t matter. 

He didn’t respond at first, hand hovering at your back. But then he did and the cold linoleum of the kitchen floor was gone from your bare feet. He sat you on the counter, so gently, as if you were glass, and you let your hand brush against the cracks and divots of your home. The one that Bucky came back to every night to see you. 

The one that had housed so many nights of confusion and longing and denial.

The one that had Bucky kissing the life out of you on the kitchen counter. 

He pulled away first, forehead pressed to yours. “Didn’t think I’d ever get to do that.” 

“You can do it again.” 

“Oh, I will, baby.” 

Laughter met in the air between you—sweet, short, intertwined. There was so much you wanted to tell him, so many instances like the one he shared before where you were left questioning boundaries and feelings and lines. But, you figured, there would be so many opportunities to tell him. So much time together. 

“I texted Wanda that night,” you shared, interrupting the kisses he was pressing to your cheek. “After I woke up and you had taken me back to my room.” 

He smiled against your skin. “What’d you say?” 

“I told her I was an idiot—that I was falling for the enemy.” 

Bucky ran a soft hand along the back of your head, a smirk lighting up his face. He was slotted between your legs and kept his other hand firmly pressed onto the kitchen counter, caging you in, making sure your arm didn’t hit the cabinets. 

“And is that true?” 

“I don’t know,” you hummed, connecting your foreheads once again, wanting to stay impossibly close. “Try to cure my broken bone with gatorade again and we’ll see.”

[writingfortoomanyfandoms]

Mudblood

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Hufflepuff!Muggleborn!Reader

Summary: The complicated relationship of a pureblood and a muggleborn, shown through their time at Hogwarts

Requested: No

Warnings: Swearing, blood purity, angst, death, mentions of torture, all that kinda stuff

A/N: can you truly count yourself as a Harry Potter writer if you haven’t written something about Malfoy dating a muggleborn??? I hope you guys enjoy this! Please let me know what you think - hearing your comments always perks me up and inspires me to write more! Also this is a long’un so strap yourselves in!

First Year

Y/N Y/L/N wasn’t scared of Draco Malfoy.

It wasn’t because she was brave, or because she knew she could outsmart him or anything like that - nothing like the reasons so many Gryffindors and Ravenclaws gave to try and convince themselves that they held no fear of the Slytherin bully.

No, it was nothing like that.

In a way, she felt sorry for him.

Sometimes, it seemed as though he was merely parroting his father’s words when he spoke so harshly to people.

She had been scared of him - most Hufflepuffs were. Hufflepuffs were aware of the way that a lot of the students - Slytherin’s in particular - viewed them. Knew that they were often perceived as being the ‘lesser’ house. And being a muggleborn as well just seemed to reinforce the point that there was no way that Draco Malfoy and his band of Slytherins would ever allow her a single peaceful moment.

During her first term at Hogwarts, she had dreaded every lesson she had with Malfoy, who she felt went out of his way to make her and Justin (the other muggleborn Hufflepuff student) feel inferior to everyone else.

But it didn’t take her long to get over that initial fear. 

It probably came from her friendship with Harry, Ron and Hermione. It wasn’t as though they were close friends, but after helping them out during Herbology class and studying in the library with Hermione fairly regularly, it was safe to say that they were definitely friends.

And any association with the trio was immediately seen as a red flag by Malfoy, putting an even larger target on Y/N’s back. 

But after hearing the many, many, rather creative insults thought up by Harry, Ron and Hermione about Malfoy, it was difficult for her to fear him.

“Watch where you’re going, Mudblood.”

Y/N had collided hard with the floor, her books falling from her bag, scattering on the ground. 

“You walked into her, Malfoy,” Ron piped up from where he had been walking with Harry, a little behind Y/N and her friends, all of them on their way back into the school after Herbology. 

“Then she should have gotten out of my way, shouldn’t she, Weasley,” just one glance up at Malfoy’s face allowed Y/N to understand how happy he was to pick a fight with anyone - the fact that Ron was also getting involved only served to cheer him further.

There was nothing that Malfoy enjoyed more than aggravating Harry and Ron, goading them into a fight just so that he could somehow swing it to a teacher to place the blame on them instead, causing the loss of Gryffindor house points.

Harry had dropped to the floor beside Y/N, kneeling down to help her gather her books back up.

“Thanks,” she muttered with a small smile, standing up and watching the interaction of Ron and Malfoy, both of whom were getting more and more worked up. “Ron, just leave it,” Y/N called, grabbing the attention of both boys mid-argument.

Malfoy glared at her but Y/N ignored him, looking instead at her friend.

“It doesn’t matter,” she told Ron, who opened his mouth to argue, but Y/N cut him off. “It doesn’t matter,” she repeated more forcefully, looking to her Hufflepuff friends before walking away.

It was a surprise for Y/N when Malfoy approached her the next day, when she was sitting alone in the library, getting her Potions homework finished.

“Can I sit here?” 

“You’re asking?” Y/N asked in surprise. She shook her head quickly before offering a slightly nervous smile. “Go ahead.”

Malfoy sat in the chair opposite, but didn’t say anything - instead he stared at her from across the table, seemingly deep in thought as he studied her.

“Did you want something?”

Malfoy glanced down at the parchment Y/N was writing her homework on, tilting his head just a little to be able to read it. 

“You got question four wrong.”

“Oh - right.”

Y/N was still frowning in complete confusion at Malfoy’s actions.

“Seriously - can I help you with something?” She asked after they had sat in awkward silence for another five minutes at least.

“You never fight back - is it a Hufflepuff trait? Being a pushover?” Malfoy inquired cooly.

“I’m glad you sought me out to attempt to insult me.” Y/N commented mildly.

“Attempt?”

“It’s not a Hufflepuff thing, being a pushover. I just don’t think you really mean it when you’re rude to me, or to most people, in fact.”

“You think I secretly like you?” Malfoy asked scornfully.

“No - I just don’t think that you’re as big of a dick that you act. I think that you’re trying to live up to some stupid expectations that you think everyone thinks that you should.”

Silence fell between them again, but (and maybe it was just Y/N’s imagination) Malfoy’s gaze seemed a little less harsh on her. She returned to her homework, aware that Malfoy was still watching her and feeling embarrassed under his scrutinising look.

Second Year

“Y/L/N!” Y/N nearly jumped out of her skin at the harsh call of her name.

She saw Justin’s eyes widen a little, looking over her shoulder to see who it was.

Y/N turned around, equally surprised to see Draco Malfoy stalking towards her - unusually, he was not accompanied by Crabbe and Goyle, or any of his usual Slytherin crew. 

When he came to a stop in front of Y/N, his eyes slid over her to glare at Justin, who quickly caught onto the message.

“I’ll just…” he pointed helplessly towards the Great Hall, where the feast was about to start.

“Save me a seat.” Y/N responded, smiling to her friend who nodded, before rushing away, evidently wanting to be as far away from Malfoy as possible. “Hey, Malfoy,” she tried to maintain her smile but was incapable of keeping the mild worry off of her face - even now that they weren’t on exactly bad terms, it wasn’t like Malfoy to go out of his way to seek out a conversation with her - Y/N wouldn’t kid herself, she knew how Malfoy continued to view her.

“You’re awake,” Malfoy finally breaks the awkward silence between them, stating the obvious. It brings a real smile to her face as she nods.

“I am.”

“I’m… I’m glad,” Malfoy confessed, looking uncomfortable, breaking their eye contact.

“So am I.”

“Do you… remember anything?”

“I don’t know what happened while I was petrified if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Oh… right,” a faint tinge of pink rose in his cheeks and he scuffed his shoes. “I… I visited you.” 

“What?” The shock-induced word was out of her mouth before she could think better of it and she stared at him, wide-eyed.

“Nothing - it’s stupid,” immediately he had built his barriers back up, meeting her eyes again but the harshness was back in his gaze, his jaw set in place, all angles and hard edges.

“You visited me?” Y/N repeated, finally regaining control of her surprise and beaming at him.

“Well… yeah,” Malfoy looked wary of her as he confirmed his actions. 

“Why?” A light laugh accompanied her words and she could have sworn that she saw the corner of Malfoy’s mouth twitch, too, as though he wanted to smile back at her.

“I… I didn’t want you to die.”

“That makes a change,” but it’s clear that she’s teasing him from her smile, from the tone of voice that suggests that she’s about to start laughing again and she sees Draco soften a little, even allowing himself to smile back at her, albeit tentatively.

“I can help you catch up, if you want,” he doesn’t seem to be aware of making the offer, judging by the look of mild surprise that crosses his face, but which he quickly covers up as best he can.

“Pardon?”

“I know we only have a few days left of term but, I could try and help you catch up, if you wanted - I’m pretty good at Potions,” he seems more sure of himself this time and it causes Y/N’s smile to widen.

“Thanks.”

“Of course.”

Third Year

“You’ve been avoiding me.” 

Y/N turned her head to look at Draco, not at all surprised to see him standing there, with his arms crossed, glaring at her.

“Is that so?”

“You know you have,” Draco grumbled, pouting a little at her.

“You’re acting like a child,” Y/N warned, turning the page of her book dismissively.

“You’re being a bitch,” he huffed in response. “Hey!”

Y/N had hit him with her book the moment the insult had left his lips. 

She lifted her book to hide the smile growing on her face from his indignant reaction.

“What do you want, Draco?” She sighed.

“I want to know why you’re ignoring me.”

“I thought you didn’t care what mudbloods think?” A groan slipped past his lips and he fell to the ground beside her, watching her intently.

“What’s it really about?” Draco asked at last.

“I thought everything was about blood purity,” Y/N commented.

“Y/N.”

“Why did you do it?” She burst out, snapping her book closed and staring at him.

“Do what?”

“Make such a big deal about your arm - I know it didn’t hurt that much and Madame Pomfrey healed it immediately. You didn’t need to get it executed.” Tears were burning in her eyes.

“I didn’t know it would be executed,” Draco protested.

“You knew your father wouldn’t let it go easily - you must’ve known something like this would happen,” Y/N declared, shaking her head.

“Why do you care so much?”

“Because Buckbeak was a living creature, Malfoy! It didn’t deserve to die just because you were too bloody proud to listen to what Hagrid was saying!”

“You weren’t in the class! You don’t know what happened!” 

“Harry told me what happened.” Y/N muttered, aware of the reaction it would bring from her friend.

“So you’ll believe Potter over me?” 

“You haven’t denied it,” Y/N pointed out darkly.

“You’ve been avoiding me for months because of a fucking Hippogriff?”

“Well it does make a change from it being you avoiding me.”

Her words had an immediate effect on Draco, who recoiled a little, becoming even more defensive, wounded by her accusation.

“You know why I avoid you.”

“Yes - because your reputation is more important to you than your friends.”

Y/N went to stand up but Draco caught hold of her hand, looking utterly desperate when Y/N cast her eyes back to him and he tugged, evidently hoping that she would sit down and join him again.

“Please don’t leave me,” guilt laced his voice, and Y/N wondered if he understood at last where she was coming from - if he understood how it felt for her every time he pretended she didn’t exist, when he scorned her in front of their classmates but acted like she was his closest friend when it was just the two of them. “I’m sorry.”

It didn’t take much to get Y/N to give in to his pleas, one look into his puppy-dog expression and she sighed, resuming her previous position beside her friend.

“You’re really important to me, you know,” Draco said after a while, his words quiet and when Y/N looked to him, he didn’t look up, studying his hands as though lost in thought but by the blush on his cheeks it was clear that he was just embarrassed.

“It’s okay, Draco - I understand. It’s how you were brought up.”

“But you really are - you’re one of the most important people in my life,” Draco insisted, finally looking up. Y/N gave him a small smile. “But… not just… as a friend,” he was frowning a little and y/N’s heard began to thud in her chest.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that… that I like you. I like you a lot,” he breathed a slight laugh with his confession, giving her a nervous grin that sent her heart fluttering even more.

“You do?”

“Yeah.”

“You know that makes everything between us even more complicated than before?” Y/N asked, but she moved closer to him, resting her head onto his shoulder, wanting to reassure him that she wasn’t rejecting him.

Draco seemed to pick up on what she was truly trying to say and grabbed her hand, lacing their fingers together.

“Are you okay with hiding with me a little longer?” He whispered. 

Y/N squeezed his hand.

Fourth Year

Y/N had been able to feel Draco’s eyes glaring into her all day, and she had a feeling that she knew exactly what it was about.

This knowledge was why she wasn’t exactly surprised when she was walking with Ernie, Justin and Hannah towards the Great Hall for dinner, after Transfiguration, and a hand reached out and clasped around her wrist, tugging her to the side.

A slight yelp left her lips, however and her fellow Hufflepuffs turned to look at her, frowning in concern.

“I just realised I forgot something - go in, I’ll catch up with you,” she offered with a strained smile. Her friends exchanged looks before doing as she asked and Y/N turned to the figure that had retreated the moment that her friends had looked towards them, rolling her eyes at him. “Way to be subtle,” she told him, but Draco just glared at her. “What’s wrong?” She sighed, following Draco a little further into the shadows, out of view of any other students.

“Is it true?” Hurt was clear in his voice and it was only then that Y/N took in the sadness that gleamed in his eyes.

“Is what true?” A feeling of dread settled in her stomach, though - she was well aware of what Draco was asking her.

“I heard Potter talking during Potions - apparently he’s taking you to the ball. Is that true?” Draco’s words were stiff, desperately trying to hide how much it hurt him to speak them aloud.

“Yeah, I’m going with Harry,” Y/N confessed.

“Why?” He didn’t even attempt to keep the shake from his voice.

“You weren’t going to ask me - Harry needed a date so he asked me to go with him. As friends,” Y/N shrugged.

“You wanted me to… to ask you?” Draco repeated a little faintly, his eyes searching hers desperately. Y/N smiled just a little and gave a half shrug of her shoulders.

“I thought that much was obvious.”

“I couldn’t ask you.”

“I know.” 

“I wanted to.”

“I know,” Y/N reached up a hand, cupping Draco’s cheek and angling his face carefully to force him to look at her and she gave him a sad smile. “I understand, Draco - I do, I promise.”

“But why Potter of all people?”

“Because we’re friends, Draco,” Y/N laughed, watching Draco lean into her touch, his eyes closing contentedly. “And I knew you were going with Pansy,” she admitted in a whisper, not wanting to allow her own insecurities to be heard too clearly in her voice, but it was clear that she had failed in that regard when Draco’s eyes snapped open and met hers.

“It’s not like that,” he hastened to assure her and Y/N responded with a half-smile accompanied with a slight shrug of her shoulders. Silence fell between them before Draco let out a slight sigh. “I wish I could go with you,” he confessed, leaning down and resting his forehead against hers.

“I would’ve said yes if you’d asked - just for the record,” Draco breathed a laugh, his eyes closing again. 

“I don’t deserve you,” he murmured, brushing his lips against hers, feeling her smile her shy, sweet smile.

“I’ll always wait for you,” she responded instead, stating it as though it was a simple fact. 

Harry had conveniently forgotten to mention to Y/N that agreeing to being his date to the Yule Ball also meant agreeing to dancing in front of the whole school and their visitors. 

“I thought you’d say no if I told you!” Harry laughed as he led Y/N off of the dance floor, towards Ron who was standing with his rather disgruntled-looking date.

“And it would have been perfectly reasonable for me to say no!” Y/N announced, pushing her friend’s shoulder playfully.

“Can we go sit down?” Ron muttered, barely sparing a greeting for his friends. Y/N raised an amused eyebrow at Harry who grinned at her, a silent promise in his eyes to fill her in later.

As Y/N crossed the room with Ron and Harry - Padma Patil in tow, though not looking at all happy about the company she was in for the evening - she could feel eyes watching her. Y/N looked over in the direction of the group of Fourth Year Slytherins. Sure enough, Draco was standing there, Pansy in front of him, evidently attempting to engage him in conversation. Draco was nodding along with whatever she was saying but his eyes were on her, an expression on his face that Y/N didn’t quite understand.

She offered him a small smile and thought she saw a slight quirk at the corners of Draco’s lips before he managed to get control of his expression again and returned to his conversation with his date.

Y/N felt a pang in her chest when she saw Draco laughing at something Pansy had said. 

It was late into the evening when she was, once again, grabbed by the wrist from the shadows, having been on her way to get butterbeers for herself, Ron and Harry. 

Draco pulled her into an alcove off of the Great Hall, where they could still hear the music being played by the band. He smiled down at her.

“You look beautiful tonight,” he told her, squeezing her hand. Y/N’s skin crawled with embarrassment and she looked down to the floor, grinning to herself.

“Thanks - so do you.”

“I look beautiful?” Draco asked, laughter in his voice and when Y/N looked up at him, her heart fluttered at his crinkled eyes.

“You always look beautiful.”

Draco flushed a bright pink but his smile only widened.

“I know it’s not the same but - would you like to dance with me?” He offered, tilting his head a little in the direction of the source of the music. Y/N bit her lip and nodded, stepping closer to him and breathing in the scent that she had become so familiar with lately.

“I should warn you, though, I stepped on Harry’s toes a lot when we danced.”

“I’m sure that was Potter’s fault, not yours. He strikes me as an awful dancer,” Draco commented, beginning to lead them in their dance.

“I never thought you’d be so good.”

“Most purebloods are - we go to a lot of galas and dances, see?” He looked a little embarrassed. Y/N knew that, when he was with her, he didn’t like to talk about his blood status, it only served as a reminder to what she was - to the reasons why they had to dance in alcoves, rather than with the rest of the school.

Y/N didn’t reply other than to rest her head on his chest, her eyes squeezing shut as they continued to dance, wanting to savour every moment of happiness.

Fifth Year

“She’s a bitch.” Y/N stated, fixing Draco with a glare that practically dared him to disagree with her.

“She’s not that bad,” Draco insisted.

“You only like her because you share a dislike of Harry!”

“That’s not true.”

“She’s an awful teacher,” Y/N pointed out and Draco sighed heavily. “And she’s just awful to everyone!”

“She’s not that bad to me,” Draco shrugged, going back to his Defence Against the Dark Arts homework that him and Y/N were both meant to be working on.

“Of course she’s not that bad to you,” Y/N laughed.

“What do you mean by that?” 

“You’re a pureblood - and a Malfoy at that! She respects you!”

“I am pretty deserving of respect,” Draco mused and Y/N rolled her eyes, throwing a scrunched up piece of parchment at his head, causing him to laugh, batting it away. “Does she really give you a hard time?” He asked and Y/N could see the concerned look in his eyes as he asked.

“It’s nothing that I’m not used to,” was her response, immediately feeling bad for bringing up her blood status.

“Y/N…”

“You of all people understand how some witches and wizards feel about mudbloods.”

“Don’t call yourself that.” Draco snapped immediately, a harsh look in his eyes.

“Why not? Everyone else does,” Y/N pointed out drily, going back to her own piece of parchment. “You did.” She added, not looking up. Not needing to, to know the reaction that her words would cause. 

“I was stupid,” Draco told her, a pained edge to his voice. 

“You still call the others it.”

“You’re different.”

“Why?” Y/N inquired, looking up again, tilting her head just a little to the side, taking in the expression on Draco’s face. 

“You know why,” Draco muttered.

A heavy silence fell between them, unlike any that they had experienced since their second year. Y/N broke it at last, scooting over towards him and resting her head on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry - I shouldn’t have said anything,” she said quietly. Draco hesitated for a moment before dropping his head down to rest atop hers.

“I don’t want this.” He admitted and Y/N tensed up, unsure if she wanted to hear what else Draco was going to say. “I don’t want to hide you.”

“You said that it was for the best,” she reminded him mutely.

“And it is,” Draco agreed through a long sigh. “Especially now he’s back,” they were approaching dangerous territory. 

They had yet to discuss Voldemort’s return. Y/N was aware that Draco’s parents were Death Eaters - Draco had confided in her that his father had indeed returned to Voldemort’s inner circle the night marking the end of the Triwizard Tournament the previous year. But other than that, it had been very much a taboo subject - it made their relationship even more turbulent than before. Even less certain of a future.

“But just because it’s for the best, it doesn’t mean that I have to like it,” he finished and Y/N couldn’t help but smile a little.

“You sound like a child.”

“I wish it were all easier.” 

Y/N thought she heard a slight crack in his voice, but knew better than to mention it. Instead, she nestled a little closer to him, craning her neck to press a kiss to his cheek.

“One day it will be.”

Sixth Year

Y/N allowed her fingers to trail up and down Draco’s arm, lost in thought.

Lately, they had gotten into the habit of sneaking Y/N into the Slytherin boys dorms after everyone had already gone to sleep. Draco didn’t go to bed until well past midnight anymore anyway, choosing instead to spend his time working on the Vanishing Cabinet in the Room of Requirement.

He had confided in Y/N fairly soon into the term - he never had been very good at hiding things from her, and while he would by no means allow her to help him directly, completely refusing to let her be tied to his awful assignment in any way, she had done her best to help him.

Joining him in his dorm after he would turn in for the night was one of the ways she would attempt to soothe her boyfriend. 

Draco didn’t sleep anymore.

His mind was plagued with far too many anxieties, overworked with ideas of how to fix the Vanishing Cabinet, of how to get Voldemort to forgive his father.

He was carrying the weight of his family on his shoulders and he was only sixteen. Y/N wondered how he hadn’t cracked yet. 

“Draco?” Y/N whispered into the darkness.

“Yeah?” 

“What’s going to happen now that… now that you’ve fixed it?” She asked and she felt Draco take a deep, shuddering breath and held onto him a little tighter.

“I have to… fulfil my duty,” his voice was hoarse and Y/N could feel dampness on the top of her head and felt her heart break. She moved so that she was looking up at him, meeting his eyes, swimming with tears that had begun to overflow.

She reached up a hand, cupping his cheek, using her thumb to gently brush away his tears.

“Hey - it’s going to be okay.”

“Is it?” He sniffed, turning his face to kiss her palm, his eyes shutting. “I’m so fucking scared - and it’s happening tomorrow. There’s nothing I can do anymore.”

Silence engulfed them again, broken only by the sounds of Draco’s dormmates snoring.

“I think we should break up.”

Y/N physically recoiled from him, staring at her boyfriend in wide-eyed hurt shock. She can see the response that the loss of her touch has on him, Draco looked a lot more alert, a lot harder than before, but a little more broken, craving the reassurance that her gentle touches would bring him.

“It’s for the best,” he whispered, another tear slipping down his cheek.

“Draco…”

“He’ll hurt you if he finds out about you - he’ll use you to get to me, just as he used my Father. And it’ll be worse for you because you’re...”

“A mudblood,” Y/N finished for him. Draco gave a quiet, pained moan at her words, grimacing.

“I shouldn’t have started this,” he said quietly. “I shouldn’t have let myself fall in love with you.”

Y/N let out a quiet laugh, though her cheeks were wet with tears.

“If only it were that easy.”

Seventh Year

“Where is she?” Draco demanded Harry.

Tears were burning in his eyes, pain radiated off of him, the aura of loss hung around him.  He had just lost Crabbe - one of the closest things he had ever had to a friend, one of the people he figured he’d always have, even just as back up. 

He needed her.

The one person who wasn’t scared or intimidated by him, but who loved him because she thought that he could do some good.

“She was tortured because of you!” Harry screamed back, the two of them seemingly unaware of the Battle that continued to rage around them.

“I love her,” Draco told him, utterly defeated. “I’ve always loved her.”

“We had to rescue her from your home!” Harry raged, his gaze murderous, ignoring Ron and Hermione’s calls to him.

“Please just tell me that she’s not here - please tell me that she’s safe somewhere - somewhere far away from here,” Draco pleaded.

Harry didn’t respond, but the look on his face before he rushed away with his friends was answer enough for him.

It was enough for him to pull himself together, heaving himself up off of the floor outside the Room of Requirement and, leaving Goyle still recovering on the ground, he moved towards the sound of fighting, determined to find her.

Determined to put her right.

The last time that he had seen her was one of the worst days of his life - it was tied with the day that Voldemort had looked into his mind and discovered her existence and the importance that she held to Draco, and also with the day that she had been captured and brought to Malfoy Manor.

It was his Aunt that took the most pleasure in her company. 

While Draco had screamed and writhed against his father’s restraints, wanting to get to her, Bellatrix had cackled and tortured Y/N, though Draco wasn’t exactly sure what she had hoped to gain from it.

Y/N was screaming for death by the time Bellatrix had grown weary and she had been taken to the basement to join Ollivander and Luna who were already being kept captive down there.

Draco had screamed himself hoarse and was sobbing, pleading with his parents to let him go, to let him free her.

It hadn’t taken long for him to realise that they kept her alive only to keep him in line.

Anytime he showed even the slightest sign of doubt, Y/N was brought back up.

When Fenrir had appeared with Harry, Ron, Hermione, Dean and the goblin, Draco had for the first time since her arrival, allowed himself the slightest bit of hope.

“Take her with you,” he had pleaded in his mind as the group were thrown down to join the others in the basement. Draco knew that there was no chance of Harry remaining there - he knew he would escape because it was Harry Potter. As infuriating as it was, getting out of tight situations was what Harry did best.

Draco didn’t find her until he entered the Great Hall after Voldemort had called a truce and implored Harry to find him in the forest.

He skirted around the sides of the room, not wanting to disturb the mourners. He felt a pang in his chest when he caught sight of the group of redheads, all of them gathered around a body on the floor.

But his sympathy didn’t last long because only moments later did he catch sight of her and relief flooded through his veins. 

He was running towards her before he could think better of it. Tears were streaming down his face and she looked up, hearing the fast approaching footsteps. Her lips parted in shock and then they seemed to twitch upwards in the beginnings of a smile.

Y/N stood up, opening her arms to embrace Draco the moment that he barrelled into her, muttering apologies to her over and over again.

“I’m okay,” Y/N whispered, running her hand through his platinum-blond hair which was, at the moment, tinged black with soot and grime. “I’m okay.”

“You shouldn’t be here,” Draco hiccuped, trying to get a hold of his emotions, pulling back but before he could wipe his eyes, Y/N had lifted her hands to do it for him.

“You still look beautiful, you know.”

And even though the word was burning around them, even after the horrors that they had both seen in recent days, months, years, even with the grief in the room and the hollowness in their chests, Draco laughed.

And then, aware that they were being watched by many of their former classmates, he pushed some hair away from her face and kissed her.

[miraculousmarifan]

Felinette Month 2020 - Day 5: Shenanigans

Time for another of the great @felinettenovember prompts! This one took most of my spare time from work, so hopefully I can pound out the day 6 prompt quicker and finish a few more tonight!

Approximately 1300 words

Felix starting at school instead of Adrien but he’s somewhere in between their personalities here. Marinette has the best kind of ally <3

When Felix Agreste started at Francoise Dupont, Chloe tried to buddy up with him, despite the two being rivals in their personal lives. Felix believed Chloe was a spoiled brat and Chloe was convinced that he was a pompous moron. However Chloe knew that being on his bad side at school would result in her own misery. Her belief that their relationship could be compartmentalized and no feelings from the other areas would seep in was ultimately her school undoing.

Marinette noticed the whispers and bowed heads when shuffling into class that first day. Usually they would stick to themselves, leaving her to Chloe, as the favorite victim. Today was different. A few of the students started waving her over and opened their huddle slightly to grant her entrance.

"What's going on?" Marinette hesitantly asked.

"Chloe’s with a new boy today!" Mylene quickly told her.

"He was wearing a vest! What a loser!" Kim chortled. Alex high five him.

"Do you think he's going to be just as bad as her?" Marinette’s heart sank. Another new bully and she stopped fully listening.

"He looks like that fashion model that's all over!"

"Oh! The Ice King! Yeah!" 

"Do you think they're dating?" Rose, always thinking of love. Marinette almost felt like smiling at her comment. If only this was a group of friends talking about another starting to date, rather than her tormentor teaming up with another one. 

"Well she was hanging off his arm!"

Marinette just mumbled that they'd have to wait and see before turning to walk back to her usual seat. An unknown girl was standing at the front near Bustier’s desk, surveying the classroom and its occupants. Marinette gave a weak smile and moved to sit down but the girl stopped her as she was about to sit.

"Oh girl! Don't sit there. It looks like someone stuck some gum on the bench and it'd suck if you ruined your outfit!" Marinette’s breath hitched. She hadn't realized how tense she was in anticipation of the day.

"Thanks… um--"

"Alya" she supplied with an extended hand and a genuine smile.

"Thanks Alya," Marinette felt herself unwinding slightly and smiled as she accepted the hand shake. Maybe she would have a new friend! As long as Chloe doesn't force her away too… The pair quickly looked around to find something to pry the gum off, after Marinette insisted she sits there every year. Just as they were bending down to take it off, a hand clamped on Marinette’s shoulder, staying her hand.

"What are you doing?" a blond boy hissed near her ear as Marinette jolted then whirled around, nearly falling back onto the gum. In the same moment, Alya's eyes shot up, sending daggers his way as she straightened from her leaned position dabbing water onto the gum in hopes of rehydrating it and loosening the dried grip on the seat.

"This is my seat!" Marinette bit back and then, after a quick study of the boy in front of her, narrowed her eyes. "You and Chloe planned this didn't you?" Her index finger shot out to poke his shoulder to emphasize the you's, all while leaning forward with the other hand planted firmly on her hip. He raised an eyebrow but otherwise kept the same mildly annoyed expression and didn't move away as she invaded his space. 

"Accusing someone without any evidence. Very childish. I would never willingly cooperate with a spoiled brat like her, for your information. Actually, I was under the impression that this seat was the witch's," Felix tilted his head and raised the other eyebrow in a manner that declared the ball was in her court. 

Marinette nearly hissed back that he was wrong. Then she took a deep breath and stepped back to gain composure again. Turning back to continue clearing the gum, she spoke as gently as she could manage in her aggravation, "It isn't and now you know."

"It is good to know. Thank you for the information," Felix had a shadow of a smile at his perceived victory, before turning towards the front and schooling his face into a smug smile instead. He sat at the seat directly in front of Marinette’s, back straight as a board, and waited for classes to begin. The gum was successfully removed and nobody in the class admitted to knowing who put it there. Felix’s proclaimed dislike of Chloe did little to sway most of the class, though Nino attempted to strike up conversation with him and was dismissed quickly. Instead of leaving entirely, Nino leaned on the desk Marinette and Alya claimed and started chatting with them.

Chloe entered with a swift and dramatic strut, bringing a hush over the room all while making a show of fawning over the boy, Felix as Marinette learned. He ignored her with an expression somewhere between distaste and indifference, much to the confusion of those that were still convinced the two were a couple.

She tried to make a fuss about sitting together but Felix rejected the offer saying that his new friend ("shoot what was his name") already claimed that seat. With an sly smile he informed her that she'd have to settle for sitting somewhere else, perhaps she'd like to sit across the aisle from him? Instead of simply accepting, Chloe warily had Sabrina sit there first to ensure it was comfortable enough for her, eying Felix the entire time. Satisfied when nothing happened, she accepted his suggestion. 

Classes proceeded smoothly until lunch. As Chloe got up to leave, Felix managed to snag her purse strap on the edge of a desk, causing it to tip upside down. Chloe shrieked at Sabrina to pick up her stuff and threw a fit about the state of her possessions. Felix quickly ducked out of his chair to help Sabrina pack each item back into Chloe's purse, however in the class' shock, they missed him switch her powder foundation with one from his pocket. With the mess quickly cleared, the students put the strangeness of Felix’s behavior out of mind and went to lunch.

The small incident was forgotten until midway through the afternoon. Chloe had decided it was time to start her usual mocking of Dupain-Cheng and pulled out her foundation to touch up her nose for dramatic effect. As she was not paying her usual attention to the makeup itself, she missed the extremely bright coral tone, rather than her usual light tan powder, and proceeded to pat it into her face. Felix bit back a smile and stared at her with mock concern. Nino was the first to laugh while everyone else watched with a mixture of awe and confusion. Chloe's head snapped towards him, giving the others a clearer view of her makeup mishap. Slowly the rest of the class started to laugh, Chloe's head whipping between them as she insisted they stop. Bustier tried to quiet them to no avail. Felix just sat back and enjoyed the chaos. Marinette noticed his reaction (or lack thereof), and tried to catch his attention with a light tap on his seat using her foot. He turned halfway in his seat and looked at her from the corner of his eye. She mouthed "you?" and he gave the smallest shrug. She shook her head a little and looked away with a small smile and flush to her cheeks.

Every prank Felix pulled over the weeks was harmless and directed only at Chloe, with the exception of Marinette’s birthday, when a confetti gun was rigged to go off above her seat when someone sat down. Marinette’s personal favorite was the glitter bomb in Chloe's locker, though she wouldn't admit to any previous knowledge. Maybe she just liked the Cheshire Cat grin Felix wore when he caught her glancing at him afterwards. 

[my-one-true-l]

Wammy boys meeting their firstborn child?

Hello Dear Anon. I wasn’t sure if you wanted a list of HCs or the  Microfics I do, so I went with the latter. I would rather overdo it I suppose…here you go.  I hope this is what you were looking for. 

(Under a cut because these got long!)

L

L looks down at the red, wrinkly little creature wiggling in their mother’s arms with wide-eyed astonishment.  It was one thing to know he was going to be a father. It was another thing entirely to have the actuality staring back at him with tiny replicas of his own eyes.

“May I?” He reached outstretched hands towards the little bundle.

“You don’t have to ask. After all, they’re half yours.” She gives him a tired smile.

Taking the little one in his arms, he cradles them close to his chest as they wrap a tiny fist around his thumb.

He kisses the matted black hair on the baby’s head. “You will never be without us,” He whispers softly to his progeny. “You will never know the misfortune of losing your parents. We will love you for the rest of our lives. I promise you this.”

L turns his attention to his Love and kisses her on the forehead. “Thank you for our child. They’re perfect. You did well.”

 Near

Near stands in the corner of the room, twirling nervous fingers in his hair. He waits impatiently for the sound of crying, a noise he usually detests, but right now it would be a welcome sound. After immeasurable minutes, the wail of his and his Love’s baby fill his ears. Never before had he felt such relief.

“Are they both well? Is everything as it should be?” He asks the physician’s assistant as he cautiously approaches the bed his Love was resting in.

“Yes, Mommy and Baby are both doing just fine.”

“Nate, please stop being squeamish and come meet your child,” his Love mildly demands of him. After all, she had just done all the heavy lifting.

Near stares at the tiny human that he helped create. Little tufts of white hair stick up from the baby’s head as big blue eyes stare up at their mother.

“Do you want to hold them?”

“No, thank you.  A child needs their mother.”

“Children need their father’s, too.”

“…I don’t know how.” He had read all the books he could get his hands on about how to be a good parent, but this was very different. The worse that happens when reading is that a page gets torn.  If he makes a mistake here…he didn’t want to think about it.

“Come here.” She pats the side of the bed telling Near to sit by her and he complies with little hesitation. “Support their head with one hand and hold their body with the other, like I’m doing.”

Near mimics the hold as he takes the baby from her. In that moment, he knows he will never let anything bad happen to them. “I’m going to spoil you with so many toys and stuffed animals. You’ll want for nothing. Including a father that isn’t afraid of you.”

Mello

“You got this. Breathe.” Mello holds his Love’s hand with a tight grip. “Squeeze as hard as you have to. You can’t hurt me.”

The last few minutes were the longest, but soon the nurse was handing over their newborn. The baby was very much their mother, with brown eyes and a cute upturned nose, but one thing was unmistakably Mello. The child had hair the color of the sun.

Mello gently brushes the hair out of his Love’s eyes. “You alright?”

With a small smile, they nod.

“So, who’s holding this little nugget first? Mommy or Daddy?” The nurse asks as she brings the now clean baby over to them.

“Daddy,” Mello’s Love affirms.

Mello takes the little bundle from the nurse. As he holds his child, a soft and bewildered smile forms on Mello’s lips before something dark comes over him.

“From here on out, everything changes. No more dangerous jobs, no more competing with Near. None of it. You and the baby are top priority.”

“You’ve already made us your top priority,” His Love reminds him. It was remarkable how much life can change in 9 months. Mello had cut ties with almost all his old acquaintances, except for the guy who the child will know as ‘Uncle Matt’.

“It’s not enough. I don’t want them to grow up without a dad. From now on, it doesn’t matter if Near is better than me or not. Screw Successors. Screw Wammy’s. I’m going to be a detective and we’re going to be a family. Sound like a plan?”

“It’s sounded like a plan since the first time you said hello to me.”

Matt

Matt wipes the sweat off his Love’s brow and kisses the hand that he has been holding for hours. “You did awesome. You kicked childbirth’s ass.”

“Heh, thanks, but I had a good coach.” She leans her head against him.

“Hey, Doctor, can we have our baby now?” Matt laughed the good-natured words.

“Ha! Sure. It’s nice when the dads are just as excited as the moms.” He handed the baby over to Matt.

The two proud parents held the baby in a four-armed tangle and stared down at them.

“Wow, we made them. We made a person. How cool is that?” Matt spoke with a touch of disbelief as he cooed at his child.

“Yeah, we did and they look just like their daddy.”

“But without the goggles,” Matt jokes and kisses first his baby and then his Love.

“Thank goodness! It was hard enough to push them outta me as they are.”

Beyond Birthday

“How much longer?” Beyond snaps impatiently.

“Honey, I don’t know. I’m not in control of that.” His Love pants in obvious discomfort as she squeezes his hand harder.

“No, my Love, not you.” Beyond turns his aggravation towards the doctor. “You. How much longer?” He weaves his fingers with hers and held her under the bent leg that was closest to him.

“No two births are the same but, just a few more pushes and you should be a proud papa.”

“She’s in pain. Cant’ you hurry this along?” Beyond demands more than questions.

“I’m sorry Doctor, he’s very anxious to meet our child,” the words huff from her.

That was only half true. He was anxious and, believe it or not, he was looking forward to being a father, but in this moment, he wanted to see the lifespan his child was granted.

Cries filled the room and B immediately went to look at his slimy newborn. With one glance, he sighed in relief. It was a long number that swirled over their tiny head.

“Congratulations Mommy and Daddy. 10 fingers and 10 toes. Let’s get them cleaned up and we’ll bring them right back to you.”

“Thank you doctor,” B grunted at them before returning to his Love’s side. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine. How’s the number?”

“It’s long. Very long.”

“Thank goodness.”

Moments later, a nurse returned with their baby that had been washed and wrapped in a blanket. She hands them to their mother.

“They look just like you. I’m glad,” she says as she gently strokes the baby’s head.

“That’s strange. I was going to say they resemble you.” He stared at the little being and smiled without an ounce of malice.

“Have you been altering your appearance so long you that you have forgotten what you actually look like?” She says kindly.

He wraps an arm around her shoulders and takes the baby’s little hand between his thumb and index finger as he looks at their child again. “I suppose you’re right.” His child did look like him, someone he was slowly killing off.  “We won’t know how much they take after me for some time.”

“You’re worried they will have the eyes, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” he replies simply.

“It won’t be like when you were young. If they have your gift, they will also have you to teach them what it is and how to understand it.”

Beyond took the child in his arms. “I won’t leave you alone with that burden. I love you small one.”

Now all Beyond had to do was extinguish every ounce of revenge and hatred that tarnished his soul, something he was never able to do. He whispered almost silently in their tiny ear, “I will try my hardest not to let you down.”

[cakesunflower]

Fall From Grace [C.H. AU] Part 1

A/N: sooo if any of y’all remember, i had a fanfic called Fall From Grace and i ended up deleting it because i lost inspo. but i just decided to pick it up again bc i got motivated to write it again. so this entire part 1 consists of the 8 chapters that used to be on here, roughly over 24.8k words. part 2 will be everything that comes after, so if you’d read the 8 chaps that used to be on here, this part may seem familiar bc it’s literally the same thing. happy reading!

-----UPDATE: once again tumblr has fucked up and i realized a little too late. please do not read this on desktop, because parts of the story seem to be missing from it. read it on the MOBILE APP. that way, you get the FULL version. this website is so dumb.-----

READ!!! ON!!! MOBILE!!!!!

Part 1

“YOU CAN’T BE serious,” Calum Hood laughed, though even he could hear the slight nervous tinge that slipped into his tone as he stared at his parents, utterly baffled and taken aback at what he just heard. He was sure his parents were kidding, but the stoic expressions on their faces had Calum’s gut twisting in dread.

“Does it look like we’re joking, Calum?” His mother responded, staring at her son in practiced disappointment. He was twenty-three years old, she shouldn’t have to treat him like he was some teenager making mistakes. Yet, here they were, doing exactly that because Calum hadn’t left them with any other choice.

Calum’s hands curled into fists, the same hands that had the initials of the very parents that were doing this to him tattooed on them, exhaling a sharp, affronted breath. “What the hell am I supposed to do in North Carolina?” he demanded, his voice that only carried a hint of his Australian accent deepening with the irritation that ran through his veins.

“Stay away from the limelight you’ve attracted to yourself,” his father answered, not at all perturbed by Calum’s annoyance as he nodded towards the several tabloid magazines on the table between them, all slapped with headlines and pictures of Calum that did not paint him, or his family, well. His dad lifted his chin, continuing, “Your grandparents already have a room ready for you; they expect you at the airport tomorrow evening.”

Calum couldn’t believe this. He loved his parents, he truly did, but having this being done to him made him seriously question their love for him. They would argue they weren’t doing this to him but for him, but in this moment it was all the same to Calum. So what if he got into some trouble here and there—that didn’t justify them sending him to a town that barely had the population of his alma mater. He may be out of school, but it was still the summer—Calum would be damned if he had to spend it in fucking Bridgelake, North Carolina. He wasn’t a child. They couldn’t just ship him off as a way of getting rid of the problem.

He crossed his arms over his chest, the short sleeves of his shirt straining against his muscles as he tautly stated,  You can’t make me go there, let alone spend the entire summer.”

“Actually, we can,” his dad countered smoothly, his accent thicker than his son’s as he pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose, leaning back on the couch. Calum remained where he stood, only his gaze flickering towards his dad. “I still have control over your accounts and I’m freezing most of your assets.” Calum froze, adam’s apple bobbing in his throat at the news and muscles tightening in anger. “You’re lucky I’m even sending you across the country in first class. You’ll have limited access to your account; should you run out, your grandparents will give you an allowance as they see fit.”

Calum was sure there would be bruises left on his arms from how tightly he was gripping them, still crossed over his chest as he felt even the material of his rings biting into his skin. Was his dad serious? Part of Calum still hoped that this was some kind of prank his parents were pulling on him, but each passing second had the ball of dread sinking lower in his stomach and his anger over this whole thing spiking.

Before he could get another word out, his mother spoke up once more, this time her voice soft and carrying maternal gentleness. “Sweetheart, you’re out until odd hours of the night and you’re showing up to company events either high out of your mind or drunk off your feet. If you’re not doing that, you’re getting involved with some girl or another or getting kicked out of places for acting out. You’re bringing bad attention to your father’s company and more importantly, to yourself.”

A dull ache formed in Calum’s mouth from clenching his jaw so hard as his mother listed off everything he’s done in the past few months. The partying, the drinking, the drugs—he’s always done that, but he’s always been smart about it. But with each shot of whiskey, drag of a cigarette or hit of a blunt had more and more of Calum’s common sense slipping away and soon enough, he didn’t care who saw him doing what.

Though, he’s pretty sure the recent scandal of some girl he met once leaking messages, videos and pictures of a very nude Calum was the last straw for his parents.

Still, he couldn’t help but grumble, “What happened to there being no such thing as bad press?”

“You’re being careless,” his father snapped, making Calum tighten his jaw once more. “This decision is final, Calum. Maybe staying off the grid in a no-name town will help you realize there’s more to life than getting high or partying every Goddamn night. Besides, it’ll give you some time to spend with your grandparents—it’s been a while since you saw them.”

Calum exhaled sharply through his nose, aggravation running thicker than blood in his veins. He didn’t mind seeing his grandparents; he missed them a lot, actually. But the mere thought of leaving his Los Angeles home to stay in some small-ass North Carolina town for three months made him want to smoke three packs out. He was pissed and, frankly, mildly embarrassed that his parents were treating him like he was thirteen instead of twenty-three. But more so pissed because he had plans with his friends for the summer and now what? He was being dropped in the middle of nowhere?

Fucking hell.

                                           ✩✩✩✩✩

After a seven and a half hour flight with a stop in Charlotte, Calum’s plane finally landed in Wilmington, North Carolina around eight at night. The airport was ridiculously small—the plane from Charlotte to Wilmington didn’t even have first class, though since the flight was only an hour long, Calum didn’t mind too much. But when he greeted his grandfather with a hug after collecting his bags and stepped outside of the airport, a heavy sigh escaped him at the sight of the pouring rain. Los Angeles would never treat him this way.

Though, Calum would admit, the rain was definitely a startling depiction of his mood ever since his parents dropped this news on him.

“Oh, come on, pal. It’s not gonna be like this every day,” Grandpa Daniel assured Calum with a clap on his back, opening up the umbrella as the two of them made their way through the parking lot to where his car was parked. It wasn’t busy and not many people were around, so only the sound of rain pattering against the ground and the rattling of the luggage cart wheels could be heard. “You’ll see the sunshine soon.”

Calum hiked the strap of his duffel bag higher up on his shoulder, hands gripping the bar of the cart as he pushed it along. “It’s not L.A. sunshine,” he grumbled under his breath.

Grandpa Daniel heard him over the rain. “Sun’s the same everywhere, Cal. Only difference is you’ll see it here three hours sooner.”

Rolling his dark eyes, Calum didn’t say anything in response as they finally reached his grandfather’s station wagon, putting all of his luggage in the trunk and refusing Grandpa Daniel’s help before quickly making his way over to the front seat. He had his hood up under his leather jacket, which his grandfather made fun of him for wearing because who wore leather jackets and hoodies during the summer? Apparently Calum.

The drive from Wilmington to Bridgelake didn’t take too long, especially with Calum’s grandfather playing Frank Sinatra and Dean Martin through the car, but that didn’t stop Calum from drearily staring out the raindrop stained windows. They drove through the somewhat busy roads, the small houses and stores nothing but shadows in the night yet a sharp reminder to Calum that he wasn’t in Los Angeles anymore. Even during the night when no one was out and about because of the rain, Calum could see the difference in this town and the city he loved; the fact that it was raining on his first night here was probably a sign on how the rest of his so-called summer was going to go.

Shit, he couldn’t believe his parents did this to him.

It wasn’t long until his grandfather was pulling the car onto the gravel driveway of one story house that Calum couldn’t help but compare to a hotel suite. Correction—he’s stayed in suites larger than his grandparents’ home, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to tell them that. By the time they had arrived, the rain had slowed and the house was a shadowy structure save for the light Calum saw through the window on the house and on the front door.

This time Grandpa Daniel grasped Calum’s duffel and one of the suitcases while Calum carried the other two by the handles, following his grandfather up the steps as the mild drizzle pelted at his jacket and hood. “Here we are,” Grandpa Daniel breathed out, shooting his grandson, who was almost a head taller than him, a grin as he used his keys to unlock the front door. “Home sweet home.”

Calum took in a preparing breath. Not what he would call it.

                                              ✩✩✩✩✩

Olivia wished she was used to the stares that often followed her when she left the comfort of her home, feeling the judgmental gazes burning into her skin like they have been for the past four years. Sure, they weren’t as bad as when she was eighteen, but apparently some people still thought to visualize their opinions whenever Olivia came into view, and all she could do was ignore them and not feed into their contempt.

So she pasted on a smile, kept her head up as much as she could bring herself to, and went on with her day.

Still, that didn’t mean she couldn’t hear the two women standing at the end of the cereal aisle, glancing over at Olivia as if she was a different species. Olivia sighed. Perks of living in a town with a total population matching that of a small school in a big city. Some weren’t as bad as others; they either didn’t care enough to send a glare Olivia’s way every time she stepped out of her apartment or they had moved on altogether, but there would always be some people in Bridgelake that would hate seeing Olivia out and about in the same streets as them.

She could only hope her fourteen year old sister, Alana, wasn’t as hyper aware of others’ stares as she was.

“Alright, I got my Loopies, can we go now?” Alana smiled innocently as she dropped the box of Froot Loops into the cart, staring at her older sister with a hopeful expression.

Olivia raised bemused eyebrows, chin dropping slightly. “Okay, first of all—you’re fourteen. When are you gonna stop calling them Loopies?” Alana rolled her eyes, waving Olivia off, who continued, “And we still have half the grocery list left. Keep it moving.”

Alana’s shoulders dropped with a huff and Olivia had to suppress her amused smile. Her younger sister wasn’t really a fan of going grocery shopping—when whatever Alana wanted was in the cart, she was ready to leave, and sometimes the only way to quell her was to promise a McFlurry from the in-house McDonald’s up front.

Alana walked beside Olivia as she moved the cart along, making their way out of the aisle—they walked past the two women, who noticeably quieted as the two girls walked past and Olivia didn’t spare them a glance, her stomach twisting in annoyance—and towards the back of Walmart. But as they made their way to the wall of milk and juices, another cart made its way through an aisle to their left, causing Olivia to stop short so the two carts didn’t collide.

“Olivia, honey, almost ran right into you!” Came the voice of Claudia Hood, an elderly woman who adored Olivia and Alana as much as they adored her. She was in her late sixties but always on her feet, active especially at the animal shelter she ran. Olivia had met her years ago when she used to volunteer at the shelter when she was in high school, which Alana now volunteers at. “Already time for your weekly shopping, hmm?”

“Yeah,” Olivia responded before shooting her sister a dry smile. “Alana wasted all the eggs trying to bake a cake so, you know, it was time.”

Amusement danced in Claudia’s dark eyes, eyebrows raising. “Did it turn out well, at least?”

“Yes.”

“No.”

Alana scowled at Olivia for her negative answer, the older one just smiling innocently as Claudia laughed at the sisters. “My grandson arrived last night so I brought him with me to stock up on anything he may want to eat,” she informed with a shake of her head. “I’m getting all the healthy food and he’s off somewhere getting snacks.” Claudia then glanced around, a slight furrow in her eyebrows. “Though, he’s been off for some time. Wouldn’t be surprised if he’s gotten himself lost.”

Olivia raised her eyebrows at that, her maternal instincts derived from practically raising her sister for the past four years sending a tiny rush of worry through her at the thought of Claudia’s grandson being lost somewhere in here. Despite the size of the town, the Walmart here was intimidatingly big and easy to get lost in.

“Oh, there he is!” Claudia’s voice suddenly exclaimed, making Olivia look at her as she raised her hand, looking straight ahead as she called, “Calum, over here, love!”

Following Claudia’s gaze, Olivia had expected to see a young boy, maybe even a teenager, since Claudia had never disclosed her grandson’s age. What she hadn’t expected, however, was a six foot tall man with dark curls and tattoos inking his arm that carried some bags of chips and fingers decorated with rings that held a case of beer making his way over. Olivia blinked at the sight of the startlingly handsome guy who was probably around her age, with golden skin and deep, dark brown eyes, making his way down as if he owned the place and didn’t give a shit about it.

He had a bored expression on his face, plump lips pressed together as he approached them and dumped what he carried in his grandmother’s cart with a clatter. “Olivia, Alana, this is my grandson Calum,” Claudia introduced with a smile, gesturing to the man who was a good two heads taller than her. Maybe more. “Calum, this is Olivia and Alana.”

“Hi,” Alana chirped happily, while Olivia offered a polite smile of her own. Calum’s gaze flickered to the younger of the two, his lips twitching into the smallest of smiles, before he looked at Olivia. She felt herself stiffen slightly under his gaze, feeling as though he was looking right through her, and she forced herself to break his intense gaze. Olivia was used to people staring at her—she wasn’t used to people looking at her.

“He’s staying with us for the summer,” Claudia said, bringing Olivia’s attention back to the elderly woman, who smiled happily, “So you’ll be seeing lots of him around town.”

“‘M not exactly a social butterfly, Grams,” Calum’s low voice spoke, crossing his arms over his chest and Olivia tried not to notice how his biceps bulged under the tight black shirt that read GUCCI across his broad chest. She did, however, notice the hint of a lisp in his accented yet raspy voice; Olivia didn’t know someone’s voice could hold so many traits.

“Really, now?” Claudia raised an eyebrow, shooting her grandson an amused yet skeptical look as she clicked her tongue. “That’s not what your father tells me.”

Olivia’s eyebrows lifted curiously, if not by what Claudia said then by the reaction it elicited from Calum, which consisted of his sharp jaw clenching tightly—how could someone have baby-like chubby cheeks but a jaw sharp enough to cut glass?—while turning his head away from his grandmother. He almost reminded Olivia of a petulant child, which would be amusing if it weren’t for the muscle jumping in his jaw.

Calum, on the other hand, was seething with irritation because he didn’t need his dad talking to his grandparents about what Calum got up to. Let them see it on TV, the Internet, or on magazines like the rest of the world. Other people’s words were less incriminating than his own father’s. Calum knew he had no room to be angry about his grandparents learning what he had gotten up to—they may live in the middle of nowhere but they still had Internet and a TV, they could easily find out what Calum got himself wrapped up in—but the last thing he wanted was his parents gossiping to his grandparents about him.

His mood sour, more so than it already was, Calum’s jaw remained tight, ignoring the dull ache his teeth soon began experiencing. Olivia found herself looking at him again as Alana and Claudia talked about one of the dogs at the shelter, wondering what Claudia could’ve meant by her words that had gotten Calum so blatantly pissed off. She didn’t know him at all, but she knew an angry person when she saw one.

Calum just radiated a bad energy at this point, and Olivia felt a bit uncomfortable being around someone who looked like he’d rather be anywhere but here, too used to people giving that vibe when she was near, so Olivia quickly yet politely interrupted Claudia and Alana’s conversation. “Sorry, guys, but we still have some grocery left and gotta stop at the library before it closes,” Olivia smiled apologetically, thanking the universe that her excuse wasn’t really a lie. They did have to do those things and it was coming close to the public library’s closing time, but she hadn’t been in a rush until after meeting Calum.

“Oh, sure, sure, honey,” Claudia nodded, gesturing for the girls to run off.

Alana waved goodbye as Olivia pushed her cart forward, forcing herself to bring her gaze over to Calum, feeling her heart thump particularly harshly when she saw his dark eyed gaze already on her. She forced a smile on her face as she said, “It was nice meeting you, Calum.” He blinked before nodding once, not bothering with a verbal response. Jeez, what was up with him? Shooting a wider, more genuine smile to Claudia, Olivia added, “I’ll see you later!”

The two girls moved along after bidding goodbye, though Olivia could still hear Claudia admonish Calum behind her. “You could at least say a friendly goodbye, Calum. No grandson of mine is going to walk around as if he’s learned no manners.”

Olivia didn’t hear Calum’s response as they kept moving. She didn’t see Claudia or her grandson again as they continued shopping, though Olivia bit the inside of her cheek when she thought about him for a moment. He definitely looked like a city guy; tight shirt and jeans despite the eighty degree weather outside, and she had even noticed his expensive looking boots. Who wore polished black boots to Walmart?

“Claudia’s grandson’s cute, don’t you think?” Alana hummed as they finally got to the self-checkout, loading the items on the belt as Olivia scanned them.

Olivia shot her a glance, trying not to think of the dark eyes and inked skin. “Kind of old for you, isn’t he?”

Her fourteen year old sister rolled her eyes but Olivia didn’t miss the flush in her cheeks, once again trying to hide her amused grin as she double bagged the gallon of milk.

Bridgelake rarely ever got new residents, even if Calum was a temporary one for the summer, Olivia would be lying if she wasn’t curious about the new guy. Even if he did seem like he had a stick shoved up his ass. He was Claudia and Daniel’s grandson, and Olivia and Alana were close with them and enjoyed being around them. Especially because they were such happy, genuinely kind people and were two of the few people who didn’t turn Olivia and Alana away when the accident happened four years ago. So with grandparents like that, Olivia couldn’t help but wonder why Calum seemed to look like he perpetually woke up on the wrong side of the bed.

                                                 ✩✩✩✩✩

Calum could quite honestly name only two things that didn’t make his stay in Bridgelake as intolerable as it potentially could. The first thing was seeing his grandparents and the second was getting to hang out with their German Shepherd, Bruno. His mood remained sour since he arrived from the airport, but even Calum couldn’t keep the smile off his face when he greeted his grandfather at the airport and then his grandmother and Bruno at the house.

If there were two things that could put a smile on Calum’s face, it was family and dogs—even when the former were making him want to put his head through a wall.

He’s been in Bridgelake for three days, and was already fielding calls and messages left and right from his friends back in Los Angeles, asking him where the hell he was. Really, he told his three best friends already about his punishment, all of whom laughed their asses off at Calum’s expense, and everyone else was just wondering where their party provider friend ran off to. Calum sometimes wondered if those people were actually his friends or just wanted him around for the parties he threw and the alcohol he provided.

Technically, he knew the answer, but didn’t want to think about it.

But really—Calum would rather be partying it up with his real and fake friends back home than slouching in his grandfather’s La-Z-Boy, aggravated that he quite literally had nothing to do here. There was always something going on in Los Angeles, so Bridgelake being dryer than dirt was making Calum irrationally irritated. He liked being entertained, he liked going out in L.A. with his friends—none of which could happen here. Being left alone with his own thoughts was a pastime he’d rather not indulge himself in. Especially when they reminded him of how truly alone he was.

As if reading his lamenting mood, Calum’s grandfather spoke up, “You know Bridgelake may not be your fancy big city, but that doesn’t mean there’s nothing to do here, pal.”

Calum leaned his head back in the recliner haphazardly, as if it took too much effort to hold it up so he lolled it to sideways to raise a bemused eyebrow at Gramps, who was sitting on the couch to Calum’s right. “Oh, yeah?” he snorted in disbelief. “Like what?”

Gramps looked up from the book he was reading, gaze landing on Calum. “Well,” he began, taking off his reading glasses. “There’s the cinemas, a new bowling alley opened up a few months ago and—oh, there’s also the beach. That’s something you should definitely be familiar with, eh?”

Calum rarely ever went to the beach in Los Angeles, only when there was a bonfire or if someone was throwing a party at their beach house. But, really, was that list his grandfather just gave him supposed to impress him? It was pathetic—it was nothing. If Calum wanted, he could do all of that in one day and the rest of the three months would be spent in bored misery. “No clubs? Bars?”

His grandfather rolled his eyes. “Sorry to disappoint but we don’t have any of your Californian clubs here.” Then he pointed at Calum with his glasses. “We do have a few bars around town—though, they don’t open until five.”

It was only eleven-thirty in the morning and Calum was two seconds away from calling up his parents and demanding a flight back home. He might as well just smoke to keep himself entertained for a few moments. Calum let out a deep groan, sinking lower into the recliner as he stared up at the ceiling, eyes following the quick movements of the fan whirring around. “Why don’t you go to the shelter, then?” Gramps suggested with a sigh. “I’m sure your grams wouldn’t mind help with the animals.”

It was comical how Calum perked up at the mention of animals—some of the very few things that could put him in a good mood. Maybe being surrounded by little balls of fur would help distract him from being in this miserable town.

So Calum stood up with a huff, ignoring the satisfied expression on his grandfather’s face as he walked out of the living room, past the dining room and kitchen and headed down the end of the hall where his room was. Honestly, it was literally smaller than his bathroom back home, but he wasn’t going to tell his grandparents that. It baffled Calum how his family lived in a house that had a garage the size of his grandparents’ entire home, and they stuck to living in this small space. They had the money and the means, Calum knew, so living here was their choice. He didn’t—couldn’t—understand why.

Once he had put on his jeans, boots and favorite leather jacket over his Led Zeppelin shirt, he left the house after taking the keys to his grandfather’s truck that he was allowed to drive. It was rustic and a deep red color, the engine sputtering to life and not at all familiar to Calum’s ears since he was so used to hearing the roar of his BMW back home, but it’d have to do, he lamented.

The town was small and his grandfather had given him directions to the shelter, which was on First Street, so Calum drove with the air conditioner blasting against his face. It was hot out, and his outfit probably didn’t help, but Calum was used to the California heat so the North Carolina weather really was nothing in comparison.

He drove through the surprisingly busy streets, past houses, restaurants, salons, farmers markets and parks and he almost felt suffocated by how strong the small town vibe this place carried was. Sure, Los Angeles was packed with people and New York was even worse, but something about big cities comforted Calum. He could feel lost and have his own headspace if he wanted, even if eventually his face ended up in front of some tabloid or another. Small towns may be isolated, but even inside them a person had a low chance of getting lost amongst everyone else unlike in a big city. Small towns weren’t as private as his cities were.

It wasn’t hard to find his grandmother’s animal shelter; right in between a bookstore and a photography one, with a blue and white sign labeled New Homes with a paw print in the corner of it. Finding a parking space, Calum stepped out with sunglasses shielding his eyes, shoving the keys in his jeans pocket as he stepped onto the sidewalk before pushing open the door.

Immediately, the many smells of an abundance of animals greeted Calum’s nose, as well as the occasional barking and meowing that overpowered any other sound. It was a spacious place, with the left and right walls lined up with little dens for cats and dogs, roomy enough for them to fit in comfortably with a caged gate to keep them inside. There were playpens in the middle and a counter in the front where all the paperwork was done, and there was a doorway in the back that led to the bathing area, behind the shelves of pet food, toys, and other care products for sale.

Calum took off his sunglasses, taking in the sight of two young kids sitting in one of the playpens, overjoyed to be playing with labrador puppies, and a few adults looking around as he hung his glasses on his neckline. He instantly felt himself drawing closer to the dens where the dogs were, the biggest ones on the ground and the smaller ones higher up on the shelf.

“Hi, buddy,” he murmured quietly, sticking his fingers through one of the den cages where a basset hound sat, tilting his head towards Calum’s fingers to brush up against them. The corner of Calum’s lips tugged up at the puppy trying to get closer to him even with the cage separating them. “You’re pretty cute, huh?”

“Calum, honey,” his grandmother’s voice sounded, making his hand drop from the cage, much to the puppy’s dismay as Calum turned around, watching as his grandmother smiled and made her way over. “Dan told me you were coming. Got bored of sitting around the house, hm?” she asked knowingly, raising a pointed eyebrow.

Calum shoved his fists into the pockets of his leather jacket, feeling the cool metal of his bracelets on either wrist rest against his skin. “Something like that,” he vaguely responded, his attention drawn towards the playpen when the young girl let out a delighted squeal because a puppy was happily licking at her face. Even Calum had to admit it was a heartwarming sight.

“Can you do me a favor, love?” Grams brought his attention back, making him look down at the short woman with dark blonde hair speckled with grey. He lifted his eyebrows silently. “Head off into the back storage room and there’s bags of dog food sitting on a top shelf. Can’t miss it. Bring over two and put them on that shelf over there, will you?”

He wanted to tell her he was just here to see the animals, not be put to work, but the hopeful look on his grandmother’s face had him swallowing his words. So with a nod, he turned to head to the back room, though he still rolled his dark eyes in exasperation. Calum passed all of the other animals, weaving through some of the people loitering around the store as he entered the back. He walked past a bathing area, nose wrinkling at the unsurprising smell of wet dog before reaching another door, where he saw an abundance of products that he saw some of in the actual store.

Catching sight of the large packages of food, Calum picked up two of them and hoisted them on his right shoulder effortlessly, right hand resting on top of it to keep the two pile steady as he made his way back. Once he spotted the shelf he was supposed to put them on, he put the two packages there on display, habitually dusting his hands off together as he turned to make his way back to where his grandmother was, though stopping when the shop door swung open and in came two familiar faces.

It was the two girls from Walmart the other day. Calum had to admit, the older one was ridiculously attractive with brilliant blue eyes, sharp cheekbones and full lips Calum couldn’t help but notice. She—Olivia, her name Calum remembered—was definitely a sight for sore eyes in a town like this, and while Calum had the opportunity to be a decent human being to her, his sour mood prompted him to keep his mouth shut when she appeared. His grandmother had given him an earful for that.

Calum watched as Olivia entered the store behind her younger sister, Alana, who wore the same light blue shirt the other workers in the store did. The two talked to his grandmother for a bit before Alana went off to the side to the cages, leaving just Olivia with his grams as he made his way over.  

“—can’t really afford it, so she wanted me to ask you if she could increase her volunteering hours just by a little bit,” Olivia was saying as Calum leisurely made his way over, watching as the brunette ran her fingers through her wavy hair to push it back. She let out a quiet sigh. “I promised her she could go next year, but she was still pretty disappointed and I feel bad.”

“Oh, sweetheart, you’re doing such a wonderful job raising her—I’m sure Alana understands,” Grams reassured with a smile, giving Olivia’s hand a squeeze right behind she noticed Calum’s presence once he reached them. “Oh, Olivia, you remember my grandson.”

As if I could forget. Olivia smiled at him, the same smile she offered at Walmart that Calum hadn’t even bothered to return, and didn’t feel inclined to do so now because of the heavy weight on his shoulders. His grandmother delivered a sharp yet subtle jab to his side, causing the 6’1” man to grimace slightly before forcing a small smile. “Yeah, good to see you again,” Olivia greeted kindly.

She came off as kind of shy, Calum couldn’t help but observe, especially with how her fingers were fiddling with the strap of her purse. He also noticed how Olivia wore little to no makeup, which was quite a difference from the many women he knew back at home, and while that wasn’t something Calum noticed nor cared about, he couldn’t help but think how Olivia was one of the most attractive girls he’s ever seen.

Calum wanted to snort at himself; what was he supposed to do with that thought? Then again, he figured if he was going to suffer in Bridgelake for three months, then he might as well have something nice to look at.

Suddenly Grams let out a small laugh. “Looks like the retriever pups are having a field day with Alana.”

Calum looked at his grandmother, seeing that she was looking past him and followed her gaze where he saw Alana cradling two of the Golden Retriever puppies, who were happily licking away at her face. “They’re livin’ the dream,” Calum’s low voice sounded, eyes on the sight. He wasn’t sure if he meant his words of if they were supposed to be some kind of sarcastic dig at the fact that he’s most certainly not living his dream in this town.

Olivia peered at him, taking in the curly tousle of his hair and the sharp line of his jaw as he stood tall with shoulders squared and hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. Seriously—how was he wearing that in eighty degree weather? She felt constricted in the capris she was currently wearing. “Yeah,” Olivia found herself slowly speaking, wondering if he was up for holding a conversation. She wasn’t sure if Calum wasn’t the talkative type or if his obvious dislike of the town had him keeping to himself. “Our apartment building doesn’t allow pets so Alana gets her fill volunteering here.”

The smallest of smiles curled at Calum’s lips hearing that, gaze flickering to Olivia. She was also watching Alana, and just by the fond look on her face Calum could tell how much she loved her sister. It made Calum miss his own, who was living her life in New York, as he pursed his lips. Maybe if his parents hadn’t sent him here he could’ve gone to see her.

“Anyways, I should get going to work,” Olivia said, shooting Claudia a smile. “I’ll be back during my lunch break to pick her up.”

Calum watched as Grams shot Olivia a mildly exasperated look. “You know Alana likes staying here for more than just a few hours, especially now that her hours are going to increase,” she said with a light laugh. “I’m more than willing to drop her home.”

Olivia’s lips parted and for a brief second Calum saw the hopeful look flash across her eyes before she worried, “Are you sure?”

Grams shot her a look. “Olivia.”

Then the blue eyed girl grinned, taking a relieved breath as she hiked her bag higher up on her shoulder. “Alright, thank you, Claudia,” Olivia breathed as she walked backwards towards the door. “I’ll see you,” she added with a wave as Grams called back a goodbye and Calum merely pulled at the front of his jacket, hands still fisted into the pocket, as a makeshift wave.

Calum watched after her as she disappeared down the sidewalk, unable to process even a single thought since his grandmother sighed next to him. “Such a hardworking girl, bless her heart.”

He glanced at her, quirking an eyebrow as she moved over to the counter, opening up a binder full of lists that Calum didn’t spare a look at as he lazily followed Grams. “So you, uh, know her well?”

Grams hummed, eyes on the binder. “Oh, yes, for a few years now. It’s unfair what’s happened to her and her sister.”

Calum blinked, unsure of what she meant as he glanced over his shoulder where Alana was playing with the puppies before asking confusedly, “What do you mean?”

A sigh left Grams, left arm folded on top of the counter as she looked up at her grandson. “There was a horrible accident four years ago,” she began quietly, voice lowered so no one else would listen in as Calum found himself leaning in slightly. “The girls’ parents were involved. Their father, Sid, was drunk and had gotten behind the wheel. Swerved into another vehicle and ended up injuring one of the other people involved, and killing three others. One of them was the girls’ mother, Jana.”

Eyes wide, Calum stared at his grandmother in disbelief, her words an unexpected head spinner. That was definitely he hadn’t seen coming, and suddenly Calum’s chest felt tight as he thought of Olivia and Alana, and how he couldn’t possibly imagine what they must have felt, what they must feel, with a past like that.

Grams had a sad, heartbroken look in her eye, gaze distant as her brows furrowed slightly. “Sid’s serving a fifteen to life sentence. Olivia was eighteen when it happened so she got custody of Alana, since the poor girls had no family to take them in. They stayed with a family friend but their mum and grandparents left money for them so Olivia sold their family home and got an apartment for herself and Alana. Been raising her sister ever since.”

He didn’t know Olivia or Alana, but Calum’s jaw dangerously tightened at Grams’ words, feeling a heaviness in his chest at the thought of the two girls being alone after something as horrible as that. Calum couldn’t even imagine what it would be like to live in a world where their father was imprisoned for unintentionally killing their mother, and an uncomfortable shiver traveled down his spine. He didn’t want to even think about something like that; the fact that it was those girls’ lives was horrific, gut twisting uneasily as his throat worked to keep it from tightening.

“But it’s a small town,” Grams continued, bringing Calum’s attention back to her, watching as her thin eyebrows furrowed together in a distasteful frown as she shook her head. “People talk—they haven’t stopped. Many see Olivia and Alana and it’s a reminder that their father killed three people they all knew and loved, even if one of them was the girls’ mother. Give the poor things nasty eyes as if it’s their fault everything happened. People talk and stare and Olivia hears and sees it all and all she does is keep a smile and mind her own business and look after her sister. For someone who’s only twenty-two, she’s been doing an amazing job with Alana. I just wish people would let them be.” she sighed, a dismayed expression washing over her aged face. “That’s one of the harsh things about living in a place as small as Bridgelake—everyone knows everyone and when something like that happens, they never stop talking about it.”

That’s one thing he loved about Grams—and Gramps—that they were both laid back. They had done their duty with Calum’s dad, raising him to be the best he could be, which he did by becoming a successful entrepreneur who owned hundreds of hotels and banks around the world and was constantly attributing his career to his parents, and weren’t at all judgemental or strict or anything like that.

As Grams’ words settled in Calum’s mind, his hands clenched into tighter fists in the pockets of his jacket. Calum was used to having people talk about him, what with him being on every gossip site and magazine issue weekly, but that didn’t mean it didn’t annoy the shit out of him or that he enjoyed people staring at him as if he was an exhibit at the zoo. Some people, his parents sometimes included, thought he was purposefully getting drunk or high or caught doing the walk of shame from one girl’s house to another for the attention when in reality, he was just trying to live his damn life. But of course everyone needed a picture, needed a story to publish, and they were all about him being a party animal with girls hanging off each arm. Not too shabby, sure, but certainly annoying. Certainly the kind of person his parents weren’t too proud of.

He hated the tabloids talking about him—he was well aware he could just stopping putting himself into those situations but he just didn’t want to because he didn’t want to live by anyone’s standards but his own—and he wondered if that’s how Olivia felt with the people in this small-ass town gossiping about her. It was a horrible thing that happened, but it wasn’t her or her sister’s fault. How did everyone blaming them for it make any sense?

And when Grams told him how Olivia’s just kept her head held high in the face of the disapproval stares and plastered a smile on her face for the sake of her sister, told him how she tried to protect Alana as best as she could, Calum felt a twinge of guilt scratching at his gut. He knew he had come off as standoffish and rude towards Olivia. He may have a partying problem and Bridgelake may be the last place on Earth he wants to be, but Calum Hood wasn’t an asshole. At least, not to people who didn’t deserve it. And Olivia most certainly didn’t. Not when all she was trying to do was make a life for herself and her sister.

                                              ✩✩✩✩✩

Olivia shot her best friend, Addy, an exasperated look, who merely returned it with her blue eyes widening hopefully and lower lip jutting out pleadingly. But Olivia averted her gaze, cheek resting against her palm as she ate her Chinese food.

“Come on, Liv, you’ve got no plans and Alana has a sleepover,” Addy begged, sitting across from her at the small. They were both on their lunch break from work, sitting outside at one of the local Chinese restaurants under an umbrella to shield them from the mid afternoon sun. “We haven’t gotten dumb drunk in so long, it’ll be great!”

Olivia’s lips pursed, quirking an unimpressed eyebrow as she swallowed her spoonful of fried rice and orange chicken. “You’re not really selling that too well. I don’t wanna get dumb drunk.”

“Why not?” Addy pouted, her voice a high pitched whine that made Olivia’s lips twitch into a smile. “You’re literally going to be sitting in your living room binge watching Suits for the millionth time. If you ask me, getting drunk with your best friend sounds so much more appealing.”

“Not if Alana wants me to pick her up or something,” Olivia countered pointedly. When her sister was younger, she’d end up calling in the middle of the night because she couldn’t sleep anywhere but her own bed. But over the years Alana became better about sleeping over her friends’ houses, but Olivia would rather be sober for the night just in case Alana’s issues rose up against and she needed to be picked up. And since Uber wasn’t a big thing in Bridgelake and Alana hated bothering her friends’ parents, Olivia was her only ride.

Addy threw her head back with a groan, frustration with her best friend’s refusal of joining her nighttime outing. It’s not like she and Olivia didn’t hang out often—they always did, especially after Addy returned from school since she was a year younger—but their meetups mostly consisted of grabbing lunch or dinner. But Addy yearned for a fun girls night out at the local bar, which there weren’t many of because after her mom’s death, Olivia didn’t drink as often, especially when her sister was under her care.

Sure, Addy had managed to drag Olivia all the way to Charlotte for a concert a few months ago and left Alana under Claudia and Daniel Hood’s care, but Addy couldn’t help but miss her best friend. She was well aware that Olivia’s responsibilities had changed since four years ago, forced to grow up a lot quicker than everyone else their age, but Addy would be lying if she said she wasn’t a little bit selfish.

Glancing at Addy, Olivia felt her chest tighten guiltily at the disappointed expression on her best friend’s face, rolling her lips into her mouth as she thought for a moment. She hadn’t had a proper night out in a bar in a long time, always opting to drink some wine in her apartment with Addy or by herself, which irreversibly meant either Addy would have to find someone else to go with her to the bar when she wanted to or wouldn’t go at all, settling for a night in with Olivia and sometimes Alana. Addy, and her family, have done so much for Olivia and Alana; letting them stay with them when the accident happened and having them over for every holiday and anything else. Maybe one night at a bar wouldn’t hurt.

“Alright, fine,” Olivia relented as she put down her fork, and Addy’s head snapped up, eyes widening in anticipation. “I’ll go but I can’t promise getting dumb drunk. Maybe slightly tipsy, but not out of my mind, okay?”

Hours later, Olivia wasn’t regretting her agreement of coming to the bar with Addy. Alana had assured her she would be fine at the sleepover, and while it was a Thursday night, the bar was still busy. Temperance was one of the two bars in town, the other one being all the way by the shore towards the outer part of Bridgelake, so Olivia and Addy frequented and preferred Temperance because of its proximity. If Olivia was being honest, she’d say she liked when the dive bar was so busy; lots of people in town would be gathered there for drinks or a round of pool or something, and sometimes it made her think that they lived in a big city with so many people in there rather than a practical village.

And while Olivia wasn’t exactly a well-liked person in their town, she still enjoyed being around people, didn’t really shrink under their gaze. You know. . . So long as they didn’t scowl at her too much. Though, her smile was a trained mask that always remained to fool.

Music mixed from the seventies and eighties played through the speakers, joining in with the hum of patrons chattering and the clinking of pool balls, as Olivia and Addy sat in a small booth along the wall. They had taken two shots of tequila and while Grace was nursing a cosmo, Olivia had opted for a Bacardi and coke—though, heavier on the coke in an attempt to overtake the disgustingly bitter taste of Bacardi.

“Is he good looking, though?” Addy asked with a raise of her eyebrows, lowering her glass as the curious expression overtook her face.

Olivia had just finished telling her about Calum, since Addy had been out of town visiting her grandparents and Olivia didn’t really want to tell her about Daniel and Claudia’s visiting grandson over the phone. She preferred having in-person conversations. “Ridiculously,” Olivia answered truthfully, making Addy blink excitedly as she sat up. “Tall, dark curly hair, golden skin with tattoos. . .” Addy grinned widely, thrilled at this new man-candy that just landed in their boring town. “But he’s kind of, like, in a perpetual state of annoyance.”

Addy tilted her head to the side. “What do you mean?”

“Like,” Olivia paused, sucking in a breath as she tried to gather her thoughts and leaned back in the booth, hands outstretched to hold her glass. “I mean, I only saw him twice but both times he looked irritated as fuck. He looks like he’d rather be anywhere but here, honestly.”

Snorting, Addy raised her glass to her mouth once more, shooting Olivia a pointed look over the rim as she returned, “Can you blame him?” before taking a sip. “We live in Bumfuck, North Carolina.”

Olivia shrugged, her gaze wandering around the upbeat, packed bar that seemed to be lively with energy. “I’m used to it,” she mused.

“You don’t ever think of leaving? Living somewhere in a city with more than a schoolyard population?”

“I mean, if there’s an opportunity or if it’ll be good for Alana, then I’d be down to leave,” Olivia answered, returning her gaze to Addy’s blue eyes. “But I’m not actively looking to leave, you know? Can’t really afford it, anyways,” she added with a mumble as she brought her glass up. “Though, getting away from everyone here wouldn’t be the worst thing.”

Addy nodded in understanding as Olivia took a sip of her drink, thinking over her words which were honest and true. Bridgelake may not be the most popular or bustling town, but it was home, and she liked it here. Despite everything that happened, and despite the fact that there were some people around her that shunned her for her father’s mistake. She understood their anger, knew where it was coming from, but it’s not like it was her and her sister that poured the alcohol down his throat or forced him to get behind the wheel.

Nonetheless, there still was a small pool of guilt that he took the lives of two other people, yet some townsfolk seemed to forget that she lost her mother, too. And every time she thought about that—which was everyday—Olivia felt her throat tighten more and more until she couldn’t breathe.

But there were still people in town that still loved her, looked after and cared for her and Alana. Olivia didn’t mind living in Bridgelake, she had a comfortable life, but if given a good enough reason to leave, she wouldn’t let the opportunity slip by without sparing it a thought or two.

She chatted with Addy some more about mundane topics; their jobs, some gossip they read about their favorite celebrities online or the latest town gossip. Addy took another sip of her drink, feeling warmth pool in her stomach because that’s all she consumed, as her gaze flickered past Olivia and towards the door of the bar which just opened.

“Oh, hey, it’s Mr. Hood—oh, my God, that’s his grandson?” Addy demanded, her eyes widening and jaw slackening at the sight in front of her.

Olivia sat up at her best friend’s stunned expression and words, looking over her own shoulder and blinking in realization because, yes, Daniel Hood just walked into the bar with his tall grandson in tow. She watched as Daniel greeted a number of patrons at the bar, shaking hands and grinning before gesturing over to the looming figure behind him, most likely introducing everyone to Calum.

Who, in turn, nodded and shook hands in greeting, left hand still shoved into the pocket of his leather jacket yet a small smile curled politely at his lips. The lighting in the bar consisted of overhead lamps above each booth, lights on the bar and the ones above the pool area, and as Calum and his grandfather sat on the available seats on the side of the bar facing Olivia, she couldn’t help but admire how soft the glow of the yellow lights made his skin appear almost golden.

“Yeah, that’s Calum,” Olivia finally confirmed with a nod.

Addy turned to look back at Olivia, since she had turned in her seat to unabashedly follow Daniel and Calum’s movements as they sat behind her. Olivia wanted to laugh at the wide eyed, dropped jaw look on her best friend’s face. Addy looked absolutely stunned. “That’s gotta be the hottest guy I’ve seen in my life,” she stated, her voice a rushed whisper as she leaned forward on the table. She threw another look over her shoulder. “Holy hell.”

Letting out a laugh, Olivia took another sip of her drink, nodding her head along slightly in agreement. Addy wasn’t wrong—Calum was startlingly good looking. Olivia noticed some of the other women in the bar look over at him, his presence demanding to be acknowledged even by him merely sitting on a barstool. She never met anyone who just drew attention to themselves without meaning to, so effortlessly.

“He really does look like he’d rather be anywhere else in the world,” Addy added with a snort, leaning back in the booth. “He also looks kind of familiar, which is weird because I don’t think I’d ever forget a face like that.”

Olivia raised a confused eyebrow and looked over at Calum once again, taking in the indifferent expression on his face as his ring clad fingers wrapped around a bottle of beer, not even bothering to take part in the conversation his grandfather was having with the two men sitting with them. His dark eyes were lazily wandering over his surroundings, taking in the old movie and band posters on the walls and the shelves of liquor behind the bar, not looking particularly impressed with anything. As for why he looked familiar to Addy, Olivia had no clue, and neither did the girl herself. Where could she have possibly seen Calum before?

Narrowing her eyes at him, the words slipped out of Olivia’s mouth before she could stop them. “He looks like he’s got a stick shoved up his ass.”

Addy nearly choked on her drink, letting out a laugh as she covered her mouth with her napkin and stared at Olivia in amusement. Her best friend rarely ever said anything negative about anyone—especially when she knew first hand what it was like to hear people talking shit about her—so when Olivia uttered the smallest of insults directed at someone, Addy found it a lot funnier than it was. Ever since the accident and everyone giving Olivia and Alana the evil eye, Olivia did her best to ignore it and focus on the positives, especially to put on a brave face for her sister. Olivia was a sweetheart, and if anyone acted out with her, she would just put on a fake smile and move along. Wherease Addy would tell them to fuck right off and not look at her best friend and her sister like that again; sometimes she wished Olivia would stick up for herself more.

“He sticks out like a sore thumb,” Addy hummed, drawing her attention back to Calum.

Olivia agreed, eyes once again finding the dark haired man. She watched as he raised the bottle to his lips, taking in the sharp line of his jaw and the strong column of his throat as he drank the beer. He made a distasteful expression as he drank it, clearly not happy with the taste. Calum stood out in not just the way he looked but the way he dressed; everyone in Bridgelake’s attire consisted of summer shorts and tees because of the hot weather and humidity, along with truckers caps because of the popular rest stop just a few miles out of town. And then there was Calum, dressed in pants, expensive looking boots and a leather jacket that had Olivia’s body temperature rising just by looking at it.

Suddenly, as if feeling her gaze on him, Calum’s head ticked over a smidge, dark eyes meeting Olivia’s green ones from across the bar, causing her to straighten in her seat at the sudden eye contact. She saw the mild recognition flash across his face, brief and gone within a second, and she would be lying if she said she didn’t feel a bit surprised when Calum tipped his bottle towards her in acknowledgment before busying himself on his phone. It wasn’t much, but at least he greeted her in a way. It was something.

“You should talk to him,” Addy suggested, taking in that interaction and cracking a smile when Olivia stared at her in confusion. “What? You’re close with his grandparents and you’ve seen him, like, three times now.”

If anything, Olivia’s bewilderment intensified. “So that means I walk over and talk to him? He doesn’t look like he wants to talk.”

Addy shrugged. “Maybe he just needs a friend.”

Olivia raised an eyebrow, one corner of her lips curling up into a suspicious smile. “And that friend has to be me?” Addy shrugged as if to say sure, why not? Olivia rolled her eyes. “Not tonight. I’m here with you; I’ll befriend the moody Australian some other day.”

Addy grinned excitedly. “Promise?”

“Just finish your cosmo.”

                                                    ✩✩✩✩✩

The shrill sound of Olivia’s phone ringing interrupted the sound of Brooklyn Nine-Nine playing on the television in the living room where Alana was watching it, and Olivia put her plate in the dishwasher before drying her hands and answering Addy’s call. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Hey, oh my God—I figured out why Calum seemed so familiar!” Addy’s voice rang through, not even bothering with a proper greeting.

Quirking an eyebrow, Olivia pressed the phone between her ear and shoulder as she loaded the dishwasher. If she was being honest, it had slipped her mind that Addy had commented that she recognized Calum the other day at the bar. “And why’s that?”

“He’s the son of David Hood!”

Olivia blinked. “Who?” Was that name supposed to mean something to her?

Addy clicked her tongue impatiently. “He’s the CEO and owner of Hood Tower Hotels! They own hotels and resorts around the world and are, like, super rich. Holy shit, I didn’t know Mr. and Mrs Hood’s family were a bunch of millionaires!”

Olivia prided herself in not letting the plate slip out of her grasp at Addy’s words, eyes widening in stunned surprise at this piece of information. Millionaires? If that was true, what the hell were Claudia and Daniel doing living in a town as small and insignificant as Bridgelake? Surely they had the money to live anywhere they wanted, and they chose this place? Did anyone else know about their family? Sure, it was none of Olivia’s business, but she would be lying if she said she wasn’t curious. She’s known these people for years and not once did they mention anything like this.

Though, she didn’t blame them, really. If Olivia or her family had that much money, she wouldn’t go around announcing it to everyone she met.

“There’s more,” Addy’s conspiratorial voice pulled Olivia out of her thoughts, making her quickly shut the dishwasher and dry her hands before leaning against the counter. “Apparently Calum’s gotten, like, a ton of articles written and pictures and videos of him partying it the fuck up. I’m talking, like, drunk off his ass, videos of him smoking pot and even, like pics and videos of him leaked by some girl he’d been hooking up with.”

Olivia’s mouth dropped, staring at the opposite wall of the kitchen where a square table for four sat in absent astonishment, processing Addy’s words. In the living room, she could hear Alana laughing at the show she was watching, oblivious to her sister in the midst of trying to process this information. Calum was from Los Angeles, Olivia knew, and from what Addy told her, it seemed like he lived that lifestyle in its full experience.

Honestly, it was surprising that that’s the kind of person Calum was. He seemed so withdrawn and quiet every time Olivia came across him that the fact he was that much of a partier seemed almost unbelievable. And he had pictures and videos of him leaked by some hook up? Olivia didn’t have to wonder what kinds those would be. If all of that, plus the drinking and weed, warranted for articles to be written about him that told the entire world of his activities, then Olivia couldn’t help but feel bad for Calum. He was a young adult living his life—he shouldn’t have to be judged for any of that by the world. She knew what it was like to have eyes and whispers follow you everywhere you go, but it was a whole new level in Calum’s case.

Was that why he kept to himself since arriving here? Olivia wondered if his life being exposed to everyone made Calum Bridgelake’s new recluse. But then Addy told her how right before Calum arrived to town, there had been articles and pictures concerning him getting kicked out of some restaurant for drunk and disorderly behavior. So it seemed that Calum wasn’t as much of a hermit as he was presenting himself to be.

Safe to say, Olivia’s curiosity and confusion regarding the Australian only intensified.

Moments later, Alana’s footsteps came running into the kitchen as she called, “Olivia!” The elder of the two turned around, Addy still on the line, as Alana held her phone up. “Mrs. Hood just called me—she said she tried calling you but the line was busy.”

“Oops,” Addy said on the line.

Olivia raised an eyebrow. “What did she want?”

Then Alana grinned excitedly, bouncing on her heels. “She invited us over for dinner tonight. Said she’s gonna make a trifle for dessert!”

The thought of having dinner at Claudia’s house brought a smile to Olivia’s face, but then she suddenly remembered the new guest living in that house and Olivia’s mouth dried slightly. Addy gasped, seemingly having the same idea as she needlessly pointed out, “Oh, my God—you’re gonna have dinner with an L.A. boy!”

                                                ✩✩✩✩✩    

Familiar brown eyes stared back at Calum, full of a warmth and happiness that had him wondering if it was still there. Did people still see those things when they looked at him now, as opposed to when he was a young kid, like in this picture? He, for some reason, found himself lingering in the hallway of his grandparents’ home near the staircase, having just used the bathroom and absently stopping in front of the wall that had many pictures hung up.

They were all of his grandparents, aunts and uncles, parents, cousins, his sister and himself. The photograph Calum was currently staring at was one of himself, probably around four or five in age and a wide grin on his chubby cheeks, sitting on his grandfather’s lap. For the life of him he couldn’t remember when or where the picture was taken, but he still found himself smiling at it. He’d been here for nearly a week now, and hadn’t even stopped to look at the pictures until now.

“You know. . .” A hesitating, familiar voice sounded, prompting Calum to glance to his right where Olivia had entered the hallway. She and her sister had arrived to a dinner his grandmother had invited them to, which apparently wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. Calum regarded her for a moment as she neared, pretty in a casual pale yellow sundress and a denim jacket on top, until she came to stand next to him. She was so much shorter than him, which was different, because a lot of the girls Calum knew back at home came up at least to his eyes or something. Olivia barely grazed his shoulders. “For a town as small as this one, you’re pretty good at hiding out. Are you trying to be the new Bridgelake recluse because we already have one. His name’s Mr. Dobrosky; he lives next to the public library and tries to steal books from the drop-off box.”

Oh, my God—seriously? Olivia tried not to cringe. Did she really have nothing better to talk about than poor old Mr. Dobrosky and his sticky fingers? In her defense, she didn’t know what to talk about with Calum because even though Addy had filled her in on some of his activities back in California, that didn’t mean she knew him as a person—just what he got up to with his friends. Olivia was just trying to do what Addy had told her to: befriend him. But she doubted comparing him to Mr. Dobrosky was going to help her in that case.

But, much to her surprise, Olivia watched Calum shrug his broad shoulders lightly, eyes trained on the pictures in front of them. She followed his gaze. How had she not connected that one of the little boys in the photos she’s seen a hundred times was him? In a low, cool voice Calum responded, “Not much to do around here that makes me want to leave the house.”

Olivia tilted her head to the side slightly. “How do you know what’s there to do if you don’t leave the house?” she countered with a life of a perfectly plucked brow, her tone taking a challenging, playful lilt to it that even surprised herself.

Brown eyes flickered to meet green as Calum turned to face her properly, tilting his head and answered her question with one of her own, “What is there to do in this small town?”

“Lots of things,” was Olivia’s instant reply, trying not to get too excited over the fact that Calum finally said more than three words to her, allowing her to hear a bit of his accent. He was quiet, contrary to what Addy had informed her of his partying habits, and that somehow made Olivia want to hear from him. “There’s a movie theater and an old drive-in theater that still runs, a bunch of parks that are good for jogging, the beach, a lake where you can go canoeing, the library—”

“Where Mr. Dobrosky tries to steal books from?” Calum cut her off with a quip, a smirk curling at his lips as he raised his eyebrows at her. His gaze was fixed on her face and the way she pressed her lips together to suppress the smile threatening to appear.

Olivia, on the other hand, picked up on the mirth dancing in his dark irises, feeling strangely giddy to see something other than casual indifference he’d been sporting since she met him. He was joking around with her, kind of. “Yeah,” she affirmed, letting go of her fingers behind her back and gesturing absently with one hand. “Charlotte’s also only a couple hours’ drive from here; there’s lots of museums there and lots of musicians come for their tour to the Music Pavillion and The Fillmore.”

She hoped she didn’t sound like some kind of pressuring weirdo, telling Calum all the things he could do. That wasn’t strange, right? She was just being friendly, like Addy had suggested for her to do. No harm in informing Calum of the places he could go to while he was here, right?

Apparently Calum didn’t think so as he lifted his chin a little. “D’you go to lots of concerts there?”

“A couple, yeah,” Olivia answered with a nod and a small smile. “I went to see The Weeknd a couple of months ago with my best friend. It was fun but. . .” She trailed off with a small shrug. “Coming back home was rough.”

Calum’s thick brows furrowed. “How come?”

Olivia’s eyes were trained on the photographs on the wall in front of them, taking in the familiar pictures of Claudia and Daniel’s family. Something in her heart tugged, remembering all of the pictures she took with her sister and parents before everything went to shit, and a ghost of a sad smile tilted her lips. “I don’t really like being away from Alana for too long. Your grandparents watched her while I went but I wanted to get back as soon as the show was over. Except showing up at their doorstep at four in the morning seemed like a dick move.”

She chuckled nervously—why did talking to Calum make her nervous?—as she thought of that night a few months ago. The concert had ended around half past midnight and she and Addy had driven to Charlotte for it. Addy was exhausted and wanted to stay at a motel for the night, even though Olivia wanted to get home for Alana. But Addy reminded her that traffic would be awful, and by the time they’d get back to Bridgelake it’d be four in the morning. So Olivia reluctantly stayed in Charlotte, sending Alana a text that she’d see her in the morning. She hated leaving her sister for too long. Their parents were gone, and Olivia didn’t want Alana to feel any kind of loss again.

Honestly, Olivia panicked over the distance between her and Alana before giving her little sister a chance to.

Then Olivia wondered if Calum knew about her parents, knew if she was Alana’s legal guardian, and quickly explained in case he didn’t, “It’s just the two of us so, like, I’m not fond of leaving her that much.”

There. That was straightforward and to the point, right? She didn’t care if Calum asked about her parents, it was public knowledge, and while she was ashamed of her father’s actions and she missed her mom so fucking much, that topic of conversation wasn’t taboo. Sure as hell wasn’t for the people of Bridgelake.

But Calum didn’t ask, not when he already knew the answer. Not when he already knew Olivia’s mum was dead because of her father’s mistake and that she and her sister were practically social pariahs in this town. His jaw clenched at the thought, especially when he thought of the fourteen year old he could hear giggling in the living room with his grandparents. Neither of them deserved this.

For a strange moment, Calum wondered where Olivia worked, if her job provided enough for her and her sister. Calum was never one to hold down a job—why would he even need one, with how much money his family has?—and he wasn’t interested in much. His parents—despite sending him across the country for his behavior—weren’t hard asses and didn’t expect Calum or his sister to take over the family business someday, so he didn’t have to worry over that.  He used to play soccer in high school until that merely became a hobby and something he was good at, and was admittedly interested in music. Both in writing and producing it, and in that moment he cursed himself for not bringing his guitar or bass with him to North Carolina. Maybe he could ask his parents to send it over.  

But money had never been an issue for Calum, and when he recalled the portion of the conversation between Olivia and his grandmother he heard at the shelter the other day, of her not being able to afford something for Alana, Calum felt a stab of sympathy. He never had to worry about not being able to afford something.

“Dinner’s ready, everyone!” His grandmother’s voice sounded throughout the house, and soon enough everyone was gathered in the dining room.

Gramps at the head, Olivia and Alana on one side and Calum sitting across from Olivia next to his grandmother on the other. The aroma of the food was delicious, effectively watering Calum’s mouth at the side of the pasta, rice, chicken and salad his grandmother had made. The first bite was as amazing as he figured.

Dinner conversation began almost immediately. “So, Livvy, how’s the boutique going?” Gramps questioned, causing Calum’s gaze to flicker up. Livvy? Were his grandparents really that close with Olivia and Alana?

“Pretty good,” Olivia answered with a smile. Guess that answered his pondering of her job. “We’re actually looking to expand, probably buying Mr. Bernard’s space next door.”

Gramps hummed in appraise and Calum watched as Alana nudged her sister. “Tell them about your promotion.”

Grams’ eyebrows raised at that. “Promotion?” she perked up, an excited glint in her eyes.

Olivia rolled her eyes, shooting Alana a look. “It’s just a rumor right now,” she told Calum’s grandparents with a small chuckle. “Apparently Val’s firing Heather and I’m the next choice for manager.” Calum noticed the way his grandparents both looked pleasantly surprised at this news as Olivia quickly emphasized, “But nothing’s been said yet. They’re just rumors, so I don’t know.”

She looked and sounded modest, as if she didn’t really believe that those rumors she was speaking of were true and that she would get the job. But Calum hadn’t missed the hopeful tone in her voice, and apparently neither had his grandfather as he scoffed, waving his fork. “Not promoting you would be a mistake on their part. You’re their hardest working employee and you, my dear, deserve it.”

Olivia rolled her lips into her mouth, though she was unsuccessful in hiding the smile as she dropped her gaze to her plate, cheeks pinkening. One glance at his grandparents and Calum knew they believed what Gramps said wholeheartedly, and Calum understood in that moment, answering his own question from seconds prior, that his grandparents’ relationship with the two sisters sitting across from him was a lot deeper than he figured. Grams and Gramps treated them the same way they treated him, and Calum instantly realized that they saw the two girls as family.

His gaze flickered to Olivia, saw the easy smile on her face as she conversed with his grandparents, and felt his own lips curl upwards a bit.

He hoped she would get that promotion.

                                               ✩✩✩✩✩

Sunday mornings consisted of Olivia waking up just around sunrise, freshening up, changing into her work out clothes and leaving the apartment. Alana was sound asleep, wouldn’t be up until noon, so Olivia walked the short distance to the nearby park where she did her Sunday morning jogs. With music playing in her ears, she began jogging on the path, the area empty as usual, just as she liked it. It was a cool morning for June, thanks to the beach just a few miles away, and the thin layer of sweat on the back of Olivia’s neck by the time she completed three laps was a bit chilling.

Olivia slowed to a stop to catch her breath, heart pounding in her chest as she took a few long gulps from her water bottle, the cool liquid thoroughly rejuvenating her dry throat. She squinted slightly, looking off in the distance; less than a handful of people were on their morning runs as well, some of them familiar to Olivia because of their similar routine.

Reaching to pull her phone out from the pocket of her thin hoodie, Olivia let out a small grunt of annoyance at the tangled headphones. Pausing the music, she pulled them out to begin the tedious process of untangling them, giving her a chance to hear a familiar voice call, “Bruno, slow down, bud!”

Before Olivia could even hope to register the voice, a familiar German Shepherd came running up to her, prompting Olivia to let out a startled gasp before she giggled joyously at the dog licking at her chin, his front paws on her chest to keep himself up as he showed her some love.

“Hi, buddy,” Olivia greeted Claudia and Daniel’s dog, fingers of her right hand tangled around her headphones while her left rubbed at Bruno’s face. “Whatcha doing out and about?”

This was the first time she’d ever seen him out at this time, but her question was soon answered as someone jogged up to them and that same familiar voice breathed out, “Sorry about him.” Olivia glanced away from Bruno, eyes landing on Calum standing right in front of them, wearing black athletic shorts and a green hoodie covering his large frame. “Didn’t expect him to run off like that.”

Olivia laughed lightly as Bruno got off her chest, circling between her and Calum’s feet before settling on the ground, peering up at them with dark eyes. She smiled at him before looking at Calum, taking in the way a few curls peeked out from under the black beanie he wore. “It’s okay,” she assured. “I’m never opposed to Bruno’s kisses.”

Calum chuckled, sliding the beanie down a bit at the back of his head. His eyes took in Olivia’s face as she smiled down at Bruno; her ponytail high and tight with few tendrils slipping out to frame her heart shaped face, cheeks slightly flushed pink from her running and face free of makeup. He would be lying if he said she didn’t look unadulteratedly pretty like this.

“So you took one of my options into consideration, hmm?” Olivia hummed, a smile tilting at her lips as Calum raised his eyebrows. “Looks like you found something to do here.”

Realization dawned on Calum as he let out a short laugh, remembering the dinner the other night when Olivia had listed off a bunch of things he could do in Bridgelake—going to the park being one of them. And she’d been right; Calum had woken up early this morning, annoyed that his eyes opened right when the sun was rising, and out of nowhere he remembered Olivia mentioning a bunch of parks around. So he brought Bruno to the nearest park and here they were—running into the very woman who practically motivated Calum out of the house.

“I did,” Calum conceded with a nod, the smile easily remaining on his face. It seemed almost effortless, to relax in front of Olivia. She seemed so open, so comforting; Calum found himself forgetting that he didn’t want to be in this town, that he was forced here, when she was there. Which was kind of head spinning and bewildering, but Calum didn’t seem to mind. “It helps that I’ve got good company,” he added one hand reaching down to rub at Bruno’s head.

“See?” Olivia smiled, tightening her ponytail. “How often did you get to do this in Los Angeles, huh?”

Not often, Calum realized. He preferred going to the gym he’d been a member of for years, because while he didn’t mind going on a hike every now and then, Calum found himself feeling more relaxed in a weight room than he did out on a jog in a park. Especially because there were often times where the paparazzi would spot him and while getting his picture taken outside of a club was one thing, Calum wasn’t fond of being photographed while he was going for a jog. So he didn’t.

“L.A. isn’t as bad as you think, you know,” Calum found himself saying, feeling strangely, or not so strangely, defensive of his hometown, his favorite place.

Olivia raised her eyebrows, not deaf to the protective lilt his voice took. “I never said it was bad,” she countered lightly with a slight tilt to her head. “I’m just saying—there’s probably things you could do or find here that you wouldn’t be able to in a big city like L.A.”

Calum couldn’t help himself. He let out a droll snort, rolling his eyes at Olivia’s words because he was having a hard time believing her. “Yeah? Like what?” he challenged, his slight accent lifting the last word a bit.

The attitude that he presented when she first ran into him at Walmart was shining through, Olivia noticed. Like being in Bridgelake was the worst possible thing that could happen to him, and she had foolishly hoped that he would no longer feel that way anymore. It’s been, what, two weeks since he’s been here? Shouldn’t he start warming up to the idea of having to be here for a couple of months? Olivia didn’t see what the big deal was, but she wasn’t one to be vocal about it.

So Olivia shrugged, hands on her hips. “Maybe if you got out of the house more, you’d see what a small town has to offer.” Then, with an almost conspiratorial grin, she added almost teasingly, “They can have just as much magic as your big cities, you know.”

But Calum wasn’t buying it as his chin lifted a bit. “I doubt it.”

“What’s the harm in trying to find out?” Olivia hummed with a single shake of her head, raising an eyebrow, not entirely deterred by his skepticism. “You’re stuck here, whether you like it or not, right? Why don’t you try to make the most of it without whining over L.A.?”

Calum’s eyebrows shot up, lips parting as he scoffed. “Excuse me?” he returned, unsure if he’d heard her right. Her tone wasn’t unkind but it most definitely made him sound like a brat, and Calum didn’t appreciate that. He crossed his arms over his chest defensively. “I don’t whine.”

He was getting worked up, Olivia could tell, and while she wasn’t one to purposefully push people’s buttons, she would be lying if she said it wasn’t amusing seeing Calum get all tensed over something so mundane. “You look like you do,” Olivia retorted. “It’s obvious you don’t want to be here. Do you ever think about how that might make Claudia and Daniel feel?”

She touched a nerve, she knew, when she saw Calum’s face tighten and jaw clench, and she’d be intimidated if it weren’t for the fact that she’s been facing people’s angered, near disgusted expressions thrown towards her for years. And while she hadn’t really meant to annoy Calum, Olivia didn’t recoil from his scowl. She was used it. After a while, you just become immune to others’ distaste of you.

Truthfully, Olivia was a bit disappointed Calum was one of those people who gave her that look, even if it wasn’t for the same reason. Somehow a stranger looking at her that way stung more than it did when people she grew up in town did it to her. But she didn’t let it show. She was good at that.

“My grandparents have nothin’ to do with this,” Calum stated firmly, the way his arms crossed over his chest combined with his hoodie making him appear bigger than usual. “I’m happy to be with them.”

“You’re not very good at showing that.”

Calum scowled, unafraid of showing his irritation. He liked Olivia, thought she was sweet and kind and undeserving of whatever treatment people in this town may give her. But who the hell was she to say something like that to him? To just assume he wasn’t glad to see his grandparents? Bridgelake wasn’t his ideal vacation spot, sure, but being with his grandparents was definitely a plus point. So what if Calum wished they were together in Los Angeles rather than North Carolina? It was just a matter of preference.

He tilted his head, almost mockingly, asking with a sarcastic tint in his voice, “Then what d’you reckon I do?”

“Be appreciative of what’s around you,” Olivia answered simply because, to her, it really was simple. She’s faced enough loss in her life, dealt with too many people’s shit for too long to not be happy for what she does have. She misses her mom every day, hopes to keep her memory alive for her sister, and her cheeks often hurt from the forced smile she shoots towards those who are blatantly rude to her. But for Olivia, it always comes down to being grateful for what she has in front of her.

Honestly, things could’ve gone to even more shit than they already were with their mom dying and dad being imprisoned. Olivia could’ve shut down. But she had a younger sister to look after, one who she was solely responsible for, and Olivia wasn’t about to let anything or anyone tear them apart after the losses of their parents. She was grateful for still having Alana, and while living in a world where their mom wasn’t around and their dad was in prison and half the town hated them for what he did, Olivia was glad she was still around. Glad she still had her sister, her best friend, and people who still cared for them.

Upon hearing her words, Calum blinked, face relaxing and tension in his shoulders easing somewhat. He watched as Olivia squinted slightly, the early morning sunlight filtering through the trees and bathing her in a golden glow, blue eyes glinting against the light, giving her irises an almost golden sparkle of their own. And even though Calum was bothered with her insinuation that he didn’t like being around his grandparents, he couldn’t help but think how pretty she looked in the morning sunlight.

“I’m not saying you don’t enjoy your grandparents’ company,” Olivia spoke up once more, as if reading his thoughts. Or, well, part of his thoughts as her blue eyes locked with his brown. “I’m just saying. . . I’ve seen you out with them a few times already and each time you look miserable. And, like, I get it—Bridgelake is no L.A., but you can have just as much of a good time here as you can there. If you give it a shot, that is.”

There was logic behind her words, Calum knew. He also was aware that every time he ventured out with his grandparents, he wasn’t the most willing participant. Being with them was something Calum was up for, but every time he stepped out of the house he was struck with the fact he wasn’t in California and Calum could physically feel his body slump at the reminder. The city boy in him was probably never going to get used to the small town aesthetic Bridgelake wreaked of.

Still, Calum lifted his chin a little, arms still crossed over his chest as he defiantly told the blue eyed girl, “Show me.”

Olivia blinked, bewilderment flickering across her features with furrowed brows and confusedly pouty lips. “What?”

Calum’s gaze briefly glanced at her mouth, pink and inviting, before he averted it half a second later. It wasn’t the appropriate time—or thought?—but Calum couldn’t help but think how unfair it was that Olivia had such inviting lips and he couldn’t kiss them. He quickly refocused on his thoughts as he met her confused stare with a challenging one. “Show me how to have a good time in Bridgelake,” he dared with a shrug of his shoulders. “It’s not gonna happen being by myself. I need someone to keep me company.” Then, with a boyish smirk, Calum teasingly clarified, “I need someone to show me the magic of Bridgelake.”

Her lips parted at his words, not entirely expecting Calum to request—or demand, she wasn’t entirely sure about that—her to show him around. Olivia certainly remembered listing off a bunch of things for him to do in Bridgelake, but she didn’t think he’d want her to come along with him.

Gazing at Calum, Olivia’s throat worked as she saw the quirk of his brow and tilt of his lips. He looked both smug and challenging, and Olivia felt her cheeks heat up against his stare. A person should not have that much of an effect on another human being just by the way they were looking at them.

But still. . . Olivia lifted her own chin slightly, regarding Calum for a moment before finally agreeing, “Alright.” Both of Calum’s eyebrows shot up. Had he not expected her to agree easily? This time, Olivia offered an easy smile. “Are you free tonight?”

Calum scoffed through the smirk dancing on his lips. “What do you think?” he asked, sarcasm tinting his slightly accented tone. As if he had any other plans here.

Olivia’s heart thumped in her chest. “Then tonight it is.”

                                           ✩✩✩✩✩

“It’s a date.”

“It’s not a date.”

“Alana’s right; it’s totally a date.”

Olivia shot an exasperated look towards her best friend and younger sister, who were both sat giggling on Olivia’s bed as if they were a bunch of middle schoolers. Well, Alana was, at least. But both Alana and Addy were teasing Olivia the entire time she got ready for her outing with Calum which was not a date, like the two of them were so convinced it was. And them constantly calling it a date didn’t do anything to ease the nerves swimming in her belly.

It was just a habit of Olivia’s, getting a bit nervous around boys, and it most certainly didn’t help that Calum was most definitely not the average boy she’d see around Bridgelake. He was the epitome of the tall, dark and handsome package and while Olivia found it dumb that she had the potential of getting anxious around someone that good looking, she couldn’t help it. Especially because the point of this night was to prove to Calum that he could have some fun in a small town, and Olivia hoped what she had picked out was going to be enough to at least start pushing him in the direction of seeing Bridgelake in a positive light. Not just as a prison.

“Stop calling it that,” Olivia huffed as she put her lipstick in her bag. She hadn’t done her makeup too heavily, and her outfit consisted of a baby blue romper and a denim jacket in case it got cold. “People only go on dates if they’re interested in each other—which we’re not.”

Addy scoffed with a roll of her eyes, dismissing what she considered Olivia’s negativity. “You never know,” she argued, leaning back against the headboard with her legs stretched out in front of her. With a comically suggestive wiggle of her eyebrows, she added, “Maybe he’ll find the magic of Bridgelake in you.”

Olivia didn’t know whether to cringe at Addy’s words or shoot her a glare because she knew her best friend most definitely did not mean that in an innocent way, and while Alana wasn’t a baby, the mere topic of her own sex life in front of her sister wasn’t something she was too comfortable with.

Thankfully, Alana swooped in as she shot Addy a distasteful look. “You sound like a crappy Hallmark card.”

Addy shoved Alana as Olivia let out a laugh, wholeheartedly agreeing with the fourteen year old. Looking back at the older brunette, Addy asked, “Where are you guys going, anyway?”

“The Orbit,” Olivia answered, brushing the ends of her hair as she stood at the foot of the bed, facing the two sitting on it.

Alana sat up excitedly. “That’s cool. What play are they putting on?”

“West Side Story,” Olivia replied with an unamused snort, because the play of choice wasn’t too surprising. Every summer, putting on West Side Story was a must. The Orbit was an outdoor theater, where anyone interested could sign up to put on a play or act in it throughout the summer. They were all really good, in Olivia’s opinion, since she’d been going since she was a kid. She particularly enjoyed the town’s adaptation of Mamma Mia! which has been her favorite musical for as long as she could remember.

“What if Calum doesn’t like plays?” Addy asked as Olivia put the brush away.

Olivia paused for a moment. She’d thought of that, but she had told him she would show him how to enjoy the small town things, and the plays The Orbit put on always brought a smile to Olivia’s face. She hoped it would do the same for Calum. She shrugged. “He’s just gonna have to suck it up.”

But, really. Olivia hoped he liked plays. Or this could already start off bitterly.

                                                ✩✩✩✩✩

Once he pulled his grandfather’s truck into a vacant parking spot, Calum killed the engine before hopping out of the vehicle. He closed the door behind him, furrowed brows looking ahead and around him as he took in his surroundings, turning to lock the car. Slowly, almost unsure, Calum walked over the curb and towards the area where he saw most of the other people around headed towards. There was an entrance where Calum noticed people behind booths were sitting, and he realized it’s where tickets were being sold and bought as a line of people gathered there before moving on to the few steps that led down to where they could be seated.

He shoved his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket, the gravel and road crunching under his boots as he slowly made his way over, unsure of where he was supposed to go. Calum’s dark eyes gazed around in hopes of finding the woman he was meant to meet, passing over the few curious looks being thrown his way. It definitely was a small town by the way some people were looking at him, unsure of who the hell he was.

Meanwhile, Calum was left wondering where the hell Olivia was. He obviously didn’t know about this place when she texted him, and so he had asked Grams, who had told him that The Orbit was one of the more popular locations in Bridgelake. She told him of the plays that were put on here, and Calum wasn’t going to lie—he was kind of interested. He didn’t go to any plays in California, only less than a handful of times when he went to New York to visit his sister, but those were Broadway productions.

He highly doubted he’d see the same level of sophistication at some outdoor theater in Bridgelake, North Carolina.

“See—that’s the face I was talking about.”

Calum blinked, looking around before his gaze went to the left where he saw Olivia approaching him. Immediately he took her in, her blue outfit and loose hair and killer legs before her words registered and he frowned in confusion. “What face?”

Olivia scoffed as she reached him, shaking her head a slightly to move away some locks of hair. “The I’d rather be anywhere but here face,” she countered with a knowing quirk of an eyebrow, as if she could read him easily. Calum bristled. She didn’t have to be so smug about it.

“I’m not wearing that face,” he defended, pursing his lips because even he could hear the bullshit in his voice. Honestly, he hadn’t meant to look like that; he may never have been to something like this, but Calum did find himself wanting to be here with Olivia. It was nice of her to hang out with him—she was a nice girl—and the least he could do was not look like he didn’t want to be here with her. He didn’t want to send that kind of message. “Just—” he huffed before glancing around and asking, “What’re we watching?”

Olivia pulled something out of her purse, Calum’s eyes catching sight of two tickets as she smiled. “West Side Story. Hope you like Romeo & Juliet adaptations,” she hummed while walking past Calum.

He had no choice but to follow after her, his long legs allowing him to easily catch up to her in two strides before falling in her pace, hands still in the pockets of his jacket. As they stood in the line to show their tickets, Calum asked, “How’d you get tickets so quickly?” They’d only been talking this morning.

Olivia shrugged. “I know a guy,” she answered vaguely before biting her tongue. She almost added on, Not everyone in this town hates me, but stopped herself. This was most definitely not the time or place to be self pitying.

Calum quirked an eyebrow, finding her words strangely amusing as the line moved up. “That sounds suspect,” he pointed out, peering down at her with the smallest of smirks tilting at his lips.

She let out a light laugh as she looked up from the tickets, the lights around The Orbit making her blue eyes glitter. The line moved quickly, and as one of the guys working there scanned their tickets, Calum asked, “Do you come here a lot?”

“Whenever there’s a play I really wanna watch,” Olivia answered with a nod as they moved forward. The seats, Calum realized, was that similar to stadium seating, and before they moved to find theirs Olivia glanced at him. “Do you want anything to eat or drink?” she questioned, jutting her chin to something behind him.

Calum glanced over his shoulder, just then catching sight of a small canteen where people were gathered if they weren’t already in their seats. It wasn’t too far, and Calum’s eyes took in one of the signs pasted on it and his eyebrows rose. “They’ve got milkshakes?”

“Mhm,” Olivia hummed with a smile, and not for the first time did Calum notice the way her prominent cheekbones rose at the action. “What flavor do you want? You can get to our seats and I’ll get them.”

“Chocola—wait, no—” Calum frowned. “You got the tickets, the least I can do is get the food.” He knew this was both of their idea, in some way, and if Olivia bought the tickets then it was only fair he spend some of his own money on something.

But Olivia shook her head, her smile turning teasing as she took a step away. “My town, my treat,” she grinned. “Our seats are seven and eight in row eleven. Towards the bottom,” Olivia added, nodding down the steps before swiftly turning around and making her way towards the canteen.

Calum’s lips parted to protest, but she was gone in the growing crowd and he let out a breath. Pressing his lips together, Calum absently made a mental note that next time it would be coming out of his pocket—assuming there was going to be a next time—before proceeding to make his way down the concrete steps.

It wasn’t that big, unsurprisingly. Calum was pretty sure there were more seats on his high school football field back in California. He walked down the steps, looking at the numbers of the rows on the ground, ignoring the few looks he could be felt getting thrown his way. It helped that he was used to being stared at, though he knew that this time it was different. Eyes weren’t following him because he was the son of David Hood; they were on him because he was a stranger in this town, an unfamiliar face amongst those who’ve grown up together.

But it didn’t phase Calum. He found their seats, shuffling past those already seated before plopping down in the seventh seat, the one to his right available for Olivia. Rubbing his hands down his pants, Calum noticed they had a good view of the stage up front, almost in the middle, curtains drawn as people continued to find their seats. Glancing up at the sky, Calum noticed it was mostly clear, just a few clouds drifting here and there and hiding the stars that glittered above, and he let out a sigh as he leaned back in the seat.

He busied himself by texting his friends, all of whom told him both that they missed him and jokingly added they liked not seeing his face every day, and Calum smirked to himself. He missed them, too.

Soon enough, Olivia made her way over and Calum glanced at her, catching sight of the two plastic cups of milkshake she held as she walked over. She caught his eye, offering a smile that Calum found himself returning almost instinctively, sitting up as she came over. But his eyes drifted as she shuffled down the narrow aisle, landing on the few people, mostly middle aged women, sitting a few seats away to Calum’s right, their narrowed eyes following Olivia as she made her way past them.

His eyebrows twitched into a frown, watching as the women looked at Olivia while they whispered amongst themselves, reminding Calum of a bunch of high school gossipers and his lips curled into a sneer. It was obvious they were talking about Olivia, obvious that whatever they saying couldn’t be good, and Calum was about two seconds away from standing up and asking them what the fuck they were saying.

But then Olivia reached him, the easy smile still on her face as she held out one of the cups. Calum’s dark eyes left the women, who were now looking at both of the with raised eyebrows, probably wondering what he was doing with Olivia or she with him or what the fuck ever, and he looked up at the blue eyed girl. He took the cup from her instantly, taking in the pink in her cheeks, wondering why she was flushed, as she sat down.

“Thanks,” Calum told her, taking a sip of the chocolate milkshake. It was really fucking good.

“No problem,” Olivia answered nonchalantly, almost too casually, as she fixed her bag on her lap, gaze straight ahead purposefully.

Don’t look. Don’t give them the satisfaction. But she couldn’t help herself. Olivia glanced to the right, eyes landing on the same women Calum noticed, pulling her lower lip into her mouth as they looked away just when they saw her looking. How fucking hard was it not to be so ridiculously obvious you were talking about someone just a few feet away? Olivia inhaled deeply yet quietly. Calum only noticed because he’d been staring at Olivia unashamedly, and his jaw tightened when he saw her glance down at her lap, lips pursed.

He wanted to say something; tell her that people were assholes and that she shouldn’t have to deal with them. But Calum wasn’t sure if Olivia knew that he knew of how some people in Bridgelake treated her, if she wanted him to know the whole story about her parents and the town even though he already did. How was he supposed to comfort her over something he wasn’t even sure he was supposed to know?

“D’you know any of the people starring in this?” Maybe he could opt to distract her instead.

Olivia glanced at him before looking back at the stage. “A few,” she answered with a nod. “A girl I went to high school with, Raechel, plays Maria and my best friend’s cousin, Barry, plays Riff.”

Calum blinked at her, before his lips curled into a smirk and he raised an eyebrow. “You realize I’ve no idea who any of those characters are, right?”

She returned his gaze, shorter than him and an arm rest separating them yet their shoulders brushed every so often. Olivia let out a laugh, the sound widening Calum’s grin, as she picked up her milkshake. “I’ll point them out, don’t worry,” she assured.

“And explain to me what’s going on?” Olivia shot him an exasperated yet playful look and Calum shrugged defensively. “What? I’ve never seen this before.”

“If you ask me questions every two minutes I’m going to dump your milkshake on you. I promise.”

Calum clicked his tongue, shooting her a mocking disapproving look. “I don’t think that’s gonna help you show me how fun Bridgelake is.”

Olivia sank in her chair as she caught his smirk widening, her cheeks flushing at the sight of it as she pressed her lips together to suppress the growing smile. Calum wasn’t aware of it, but Olivia was grateful that he managed to distract her from the eyes she could feel piercing her skin. She glanced at him, watching as his lips wrapped around the straw as he drank his milkshake, and Olivia forced herself to look away as the heat in her cheeks intensified.

She took a deep breath, sipping her own milkshake. Fun. Right.

                                                 ✩✩✩✩✩

Olivia was trying to fight off the smile from growing on her face as she raised her eyebrows at Calum, who was staring out the window as he sat across from her, fingers tapping the tabletop as his head nodded to the song he was humming. The play had just ended and the two of them were at a nearby diner for a late dinner, and Calum was shamelessly humming the tune of I Feel Pretty after having just heard it at the show they attended.

Much to her relief, Calum seemed to enjoy the play a lot, his eyes following every character on the stage with focused interest and head bopping to the songs being performed, curls lightly bouncing at the movement. And now as they waited for their food, Calum still had that song playing in his head and while satisfaction coursed through Olivia’s veins, the fond smile won over as it graced her lips, gazing at the man sat across from her in the booth.

He looked her way then, taking note of her raised eyebrows and curled lips, and Calum was suddenly aware of what he was doing as he instantly stopped humming and leaned back in the booth. “It’s a catchy song,” he half-heartedly defended, uncharacteristically feeling his face warm at the look Olivia was giving him.

“I know,” she laughed lightly, the bright lights of the diner dancing against her blue eyes. Olivia leaned forward, arms folding on top of the table as she asked, “I’m guessing you liked the play, then?”

“You can say that,” Calum responded, willing himself not to be embarrassed because, really, there was nothing to be embarrassed about. Honestly, he really did enjoy the play, and the performance put on by everyone was amazing. Bridgelake, Calum concluded once the show was over, had some pretty talented people. “Thank you for bringing me to see it,” he found himself adding sincerely, the corners of his lips tilting upwards.

Olivia’s head tilted slightly, her smile widening at the sincerity in his tone, utterly contrasting the indifferent yet bored expression she often saw him wear. “You’re welcome,” she said just as the waitress returned with their food.

Calum’s burger and fries were placed in front of him while Olivia’s grilled chicken sandwich and curly fries instantly watered her mouth, and the two of them dug into their food while the Top 40 songs played throughout the semi busy diner. Things fell quiet between them for a few moments, though it wasn’t an uncomfortable one as they enjoyed their food and, Calum had to admit—his burger was one of the best he’s had.

As he took a bite of his fries, Olivia couldn’t help but muse, “How can you pick regular fries over curly ones?”

Calum paused in his chewing, holding the uneaten halves of his fries as his gaze snapped towards her. When he saw the unimpressed raise of her brows and the small smirk on her lips, Calum let out a short laugh. “Are you judging me on my choice of fries?”

Olivia gave an unapologetic shrug of her shoulders. “I don’t trust anyone who picks regular fries when they have the option of getting curly ones.”

Amusement danced in Calum’s dark eyes as his lips formed an O and he released a mocking offended breath. “Now you’re just hurtin’ my feelings.”

She laughed before taking a sip of her drink, and Olivia couldn’t help but think how easy this felt. Her nerves had been prickling under her skin when she’d been driving over to The Orbit, over thinking if Calum would want to watch a play or if he’d enjoy it, but they had fun. Admittedly, Olivia had kept glancing over at Calum, taking in his reactions to what was happening on stage, and each time she was relieved to see that he looked so into it.

But her grin soon diminished as the door of the diner opened and in walked the three women that had been sitting in their row at The Orbit, the same women who’d been unashamedly been whispering about Olivia when they saw her. She knew of them—Mrs. Dixit, Mrs. Shaw, and Mrs. Rizzo—and was painfully aware that they were just three of many people who weren’t fond of her. So Olivia’s smile vanished as she drank her soda, watching as the women were seated at a table in the middle of the diner a little ways beside them, where she had a perfect view of them and they had one of her.

As per usual, Olivia did her best to pay them no mind, ignoring the looks she could feel them throwing her way every now and then as she ate her dinner and made light, easy conversation with Calum.

And she thought things were going fine, would be fine, until Mrs. Dixit’s voice consisting of a fading Indian accent flowed over. “I heard they’re replacing that poor Heather with her. They’re risky, aren’t they, for hiring her in the first place? Now they’re making her manager?”

Mrs. Rizzo scoffed distastefully. “They’ve lost my business.”

“I stopped going there the day they hired the Moore girl.” Olivia winced at Mrs. Shaw’s haughty tone, eyes casting towards her nearly finished plate, hoping Calum hadn’t noticed the rigidness in her shoulders. Of course he had; she just missed the way his eyes darted in the direction of the women after Olivia broke their gaze.

His eyebrows twitched into a frown, not oblivious to the discomfort Olivia didn’t succeed in hiding as he looked at the three middle aged women. It was kind of ridiculous, how a couple of women their age were so openly and unashamedly talking about Olivia as if she wasn’t even there, not at all perturbed by the fact that she could hear them. They were doing it because she could hear them, Calum figured, and his grip on his glass tightened, rings slightly scraping against it. How pathetic were they to talk about someone younger than them, as if they were a bunch of teenagers in high school taking part in cafeteria gossip?

Olivia glanced up at the sound, eyes going from Calum’s tight grasp on his glass to his face, mildly taken aback at the glare she saw on his face directed towards the women a few tables over. She hadn’t expected him to look so annoyed, eyebrows scrunched into a scowl. “Calum—”

“Why’re you just lettin’ them talk about you like that?” He spoke up at the same time, the muscle in his jaw jumping as he finally looked back at Olivia once more. The irritation in his dark eyes was surprising and, ironically, comforting. His brows were drawn downwards, shaking his head once. “Why don’t you just say somethin’?”

She stared at him for a moment, mouth drying at the curious yet confused look in his demanding eyes. Truthfully, Olivia hadn’t expected Calum to speak up about the women, didn’t think he cared enough to pay attention. Swallowing the dryness from her throat, Olivia answered, “It’s not worth it.”

Calum gaped at her, the irritation being completely replaced with bewilderment. Not worth it? Was she serious? “So you’re just. . .” His eyebrows twitched into a frown just like his lips. “You’re gonna let them disrespect you like that for no reason?”

Olivia inhaled sharply before surprising herself by blurting, “They have a reason.”

And then Calum surprised her even more by countering, “I know the reason. ’S not justified.”

Her eyes widened slightly, this time it was her turn to stare at him disbelief. He knew? What exactly did he know? Most of the town’s dislike for Olivia wasn’t news, it wasn’t a secret, but Calum wasn’t from here and she was hoping that everyone’s opinion of her wasn’t going to morph his opinion of her. It would’ve been refreshing to have someone new who didn’t judge her for someone else’s tragic mistake. “What do you—”

“Grams told me,” Calum confessed with a sigh, a familiar expression crossing his face, one Olivia knew too well. Sympathy. She suppressed a sigh of her own—she hadn’t wanted to see that on Calum’s face. But he leaned forward, arms crossed on the table as his gaze remained locked with hers. “And I agree with her; it isn’t right that you and your sister get judged for something you had no control over.”

Olivia’s lips parted at that, at the sincerity on his face emphasized by the determined frown on his face, like he wanted her to believe his words, shown in the emphasis each word he spoke carried. If Calum found out about Olivia’s family through his grandmother, then no doubt he got the real story rather than some twisted version she knew a bunch of people in this town would have no problem spewing. Some people were disgusting enough to contort the events of that night to say that her father purposefully killed those people in the accident. Yes, it was his fault for driving while he was drunk, something he should have never done, but the way some people spoke of it, it would be easy to assume by their words that it was premeditated. He had made an awful, horrific decision to drive under the influence, something even Olivia herself would never forgive him for, but had to endure the aftermath of.

Calum’s defense of her was kind of surprising, but Olivia was appreciative of it. They didn’t know each other too well and only knew about her situation through Claudia’s words, yet the look in his eyes was determined enough to show her that he was on her side. And Olivia felt her heart swell at that. Playing with her crumpled napkin, she kept her gaze on it as she quietly told him, “If I say anything back, they’re just going to be more annoyed and hate me more than they already do.” She hated that she let out a tired, defeated chuckle at that before shrugging. “Like I said—it’s not worth it.”

He didn’t understand as he took in her downcast blue eyes and the purse of her naturally pouty lips, staring at her with his own lips slightly parted. Calum was the kind of person who, if he ever heard someone talk badly about himself or his family or his friends, wouldn’t hesitate to go on the defense. He knew he couldn’t change everyone’s minds and opinions, but he could let them know he wasn’t going to take their shit.

It almost disturbed Calum that Olivia wasn’t willing to do that for herself.

The waitress came by to drop off their check and before Olivia could even think to reach for it, Calum swiped the small black folder right up. “Wait, no—it’s my treat,” Olivia argued, trying to reach for it from across the table.

Calum merely placed it on his lap, pulling out his wallet and placing the credit card inside the folder without even checking the bill. “You paid for the play and the milkshakes,” he pointed out, lips curling into a small smirk. “Least I can do is pay for dinner.”

She stared at him, lips pursed and bemused, but Calum merely smirked wider when the waitress returned for it and he handed it to her without breaking from Olivia’s gaze. Calum chuckled as he reassured, “Next time you can pay for the food.”

“Oh?” Olivia quirked an eyebrow, feeling some of her previous playfulness creep back as she tilted her head slightly. “So there’s gonna be a next time?”

Calum huffed out a laugh. “After tonight, you’re my official tour guide. I don’t have any other friends here to show me around Bridgelake.”

Both of them were smiling, teasing and maybe even a little bit flirty if Olivia squinted, enough to make her heart flutter because he had such a nice smile. Calum’s cheeks would push up and depending on how much he was smiling there would be crinkles by his eyes, only adding to the adorability of the expression. A much better look, a wonderful difference, than when he barely made any expressions when he first arrived.

“We’re friends now?” Olivia countered, enjoying the banter with a smile. She didn’t have that many friends, only Addy whom Olivia adored the company of and would never get tired of, but she had to admit—a new person’s company was always welcome. Especially when it was someone like Calum.

“Like it or not,” Calum shrugged before thanking the waitress once she brought back the folder so he could retrieve his credit card.

Olivia chuckled as she gathered her purse and the two of them stood up as Calum put the card back in his wallet and then dropped a twenty dollar bill on the table for tip, Olivia’s eyebrows shooting up at the sight because she knew the tip was almost as much as the actual bill. Damn. Glancing at Calum, she sarcastically mused, “I’m honored.”

Calum stood by his side of table so Olivia could walk past him towards the door, and as she did he joked, “I’m honored you’re honored,” earning another laugh from him as she shook her head and kept walking.

He smiled after her. Before following Olivia’s steps, Calum couldn’t help but glance over at the table a few feet away from him, occupied by the women seated there. Unsurprisingly, they were looking over this way, their judgmental gazes burning holes in Olivia’s back before simultaneously—creepily—their eyes shifted over to him. One of them offered a smile while the other two looked at him with expressions mixed with curiosity and coyness, the second not at all in regards to the obvious age difference between them. He was used to older women sending him those kinds of looks—he was from Los Angeles, after all.

And his mother raised him to be respectful of those older than him, and for the most part Calum was. But as soon as the three of the women looked at him, Calum couldn’t help the scowl he sent their way, triggered by the rude words and glares they sent Olivia’s way. They all immediately recoiled, almost affronted yet discouraged, and looked away from him, and the satisfied smirk tugged at Calum’s lips as he fixed his jacket and Olivia out of the diner. He wasn’t afraid to give those women that look if he saw them again.

Easily catching up to Olivia, they walked together in a comfortable silence towards the parking lot that was between The Orbit and the diner they were just at, the night breeze cool and inviting, and a fruity scent suddenly invaded Calum’s nose. He realized it must be Olivia’s shampoo or something, inhaling softly, subtly, because it just smelt so good.

They reached Olivia’s car since Calum silently decided to walk her to it, and as she unlocked the door she faced Calum. Before she could say anything, Calum shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket and said, “Thank you, Olivia,  for tonight.” The street lamp above made his dark eyes glimmer. “I really did have a good time.”

Olivia couldn’t fight the smile as she looked up at him. His curls swayed slightly in the mild breeze, the glow of the light above softening his features. “Enough to change your opinion of Bridgelake?” she asked with a tilt of her head. She knew it wasn’t going to take just a theater show to make Calum fall in love with Bridgelake or something, but she still wanted to get a feel of what he thought.

Calum let out a breathy chuckle, bowing his head as he did so, his curls brushing across his forehead before he lifted his head and smirked at Olivia. “Slowly,” he agreed and Olivia’s smile widened. “Might sound crazy to say but I kind of already prefer The Orbit than Broadway.”

Olivia’s jaw hung with a disbelieving scoff, staring at Calum incredulously before she waved him off. “Alright, psycho, I somehow doubt that,” she laughed, earning another laugh from Calum as he argued, “I’m serious!”

She shook her head in amusement as she stepped aside to open her car door. “Whatever you say, Mr. California,” she responded with a roll of her eyes, giggling at the bemused look he sent her way at the nickname.

“Drive safe, Olivia,” Calum chose to say instead of retorting, smiling fondly at the blue eyed girl.

Then, to her surprise, he pulled his left hand out of his pocket before pulling her in for a one armed hug, and Olivia’s eyes widened as her cheek was pressed against the cool leather of his jacket. But she relaxed in his embrace, in the mesmerizing scent of vanilla, leather and something that seemed like a wonderful mixture of wood and flowers as she returned the hug, unable to stop the smile from growing from her face. How fucking cute. “Goodnight, Calum,” she returned softly, before reluctantly pulling away from the tall man.

Calum smiled at her, stepping back to allow her to get in the car and as he shut the door behind her, Olivia let out a breath as she put her bag on the passenger seat and reached for the seatbelt. He stood by as she started the car, and Olivia sent him a smile and a wave as she pulled out of the parking spot, smile widening as he raised his hand in response.

Olivia couldn’t help but glance at her rearview mirror as she drove off, watching as Calum’s standing figure became smaller and smaller until she had to make a turn, and she let out yet another breath. The smile was still on her face, grip on the steering wheel tightening as the giddiness bubbled in her stomach, only intensifying when Calum’s I’d rather be anywhere but here face hadn’t made an appearance after she called him out for it at the start of the night. Not because he had been actively trying to keep it off his face, but because Olivia could tell he was genuinely enjoying himself, much to her fluttering excitement. She was definitely down to do this again.

                                                    ✩✩✩✩✩

Calum was more of a night owl than a morning person. He enjoyed staying up at night but he also appreciated his sleep, hating when the sun came up to start a new day. And he especially hated it in Bridgelake, when every other day there would be one neighbor or another of his grandparents’ who was mowing their lawn, the roar of the lawn mower jolting Calum out of his sleep practically every other day.

Safe to say, he started most days in a shitty mood.

Rolling out of bed reluctantly, Calum sat up and ran his fingers through his messy curls, a tired sigh escaping him before grunting as he stood up. Pulling on his sweatpants, Calum didn’t bother with a shirt as he used the bathroom before heading to the kitchen, the scent of eggs pulling him to where his grandparents already were. His grandfather sat reading the newspaper while eating his eggs, while his grandmother drank her tea and read whatever she was reading on her iPad.

“Morning, sleepy head,” Grams greeted, just like every other morning, as she smiled fondly at the sight of her sleep ridden grandson. “There’s coffee in the pot.”

Calum mumbled his thanks as he poured some for himself before sitting down next to his grandfather, across from his grandmother as he propped his elbows on the table and took a long sip of the steaming drink. He was quiet in the mornings, which wasn’t unusual, and drank his coffee and ate the pancakes that were left for him as a way of getting energy to brave the day.

Not that he had any plans.

He was still at the table when his grandparents got up to gather their things before walking back into the kitchen, frowning at them in confusion. It was Saturday and the pet shelter didn’t open for another few hours, and his grandfather didn’t have work either. But upon noticing Calum’s expression, his grandfather let out a chuckle. “We’re going for a friend’s birthday up in Wilmington. I told you about it a couple of days ago, bud.”

Calum blinked before his memory stuck, nodding as he recalled being told something like that. “We’ll probably be back around the late evening, so you’re on your own,” Grams teased as she picked up her purse and followed Gramps to the door. “Oh, by the way!” Calum glanced at her over his shoulder as his grandmother sweetly smiled at him. “Mind making a trip today to Olivia’s boutique? There’s some things I ordered that should be ready for pick up and the store’s going to be closed tomorrow. Make sure you go before closing at nine, alright?”

Then they were gone, before Calum could even offer up a response. He leaned back in the chair with a huff, eyes falling to Bruno, who sat on the floor staring up at him with dark eyes. Guess it was just him and his dog for the day.

                                                 ✩✩✩✩✩

It wasn’t until around noon did Calum leave the house and go to run his grandmother’s quick errand. He knew the name of the boutique and knew the name of the street it was on, so it wouldn’t be too hard to find it. Since his grandparents took his gramps’ truck, Calum was left with Grams’ station wagon, and it took him a minute to adjust the seat since his grandmother was significantly shorter and with the settings she had, Calum’s knees were practically up to his chin.

The drive wasn’t long—not that any drive from one location in Bridgelake to another was more than fifteen minutes—and Calum parked the car along the sidewalk before hopping out and pocketing the keys. Calum really hoped Olivia was at the store, but his grandmother had texted him that he could just ask anyone that he was there to pick up stuff for her.

He walked into the boutique called Moonflower, blinking at the store. Everything was split into color coordinated sections, each containing only clothes and accessories of specific colors, which Calum found kind of cool. A woman by the door chirped out a greeting and Calum shot her a quick smile before making his way towards the back where he could see was the register.

It was fairly busy in the store, women of all ages looking about and a few men here and there, and Calum was nearly to the front when he heard a familiar voice call, “Calum?”

He let out a sigh of relief when he caught sight of Olivia and her pretty blue eyes, shoulders sinking as she made her way over to him. She was dressed in dark blue jeans and a black blouse tucked in, complete with a small headset, and Calum was aware of the brief thought that flew by in his mind—a thought that couldn’t help but acknowledge how cute she looked in her uniform.

“Hey,” he greeted her, the smile coming to his face a lot more easily than he thought. “How’re you doin’, Olivia?”

He hadn’t seen her for a few days, since their outing the other night, but the two still texted. She was the only person, other than the boys back home, that Calum came to regularly texting, and he found himself really enjoying her company, whether it be in person or virtually. Olivia was one of the few people in Calum’s life that knew how to keep a conversation going, that was interested in what he had to say and Calum couldn’t help but return the sentiment.

“I’m good,” she smiled, blue eyes glinting under the bright lights of the store before she asked, “What brings you here?”

“Oh, uh, I’m here to pick up something for Grams?” he told her, his answer coming out as a question, wondering if Olivia could help him out. Hoping that she could. “She said she ordered some stuff and that I could just come by and pick it up for her.”

Realization dawned on Olivia as her lips parted. “Oh, yeah, right. Give me a second, yeah? I’ll go get it from the back.”

Calum nodded as Olivia walked around him, heading off to the back of the store as he lingered about. He looked around, noticing the store had practically everything that a boutique did, his eyes on a bunch of scarves and accessories. Calum’s fingers trailed over the soft fabric of the scarves and he looked at the designs for the cell phone cases, wondering if his mum or sister would want something of the sort. It got cold in London. Maybe he could buy a scarf for Mali.

As he waited, Calum’s eyes happened to trail over to a rack of socks, chuckling to himself at the designs on the unisex socks. His eyebrows raised as he caught sight of a pair of blue socks with dogs printed on them, with the furry animals wearing a beanie and glasses, and Calum found himself picking up a packet of those kind and grinning at them, finding them to be the most amusing and best things ever.

“Here you go.”

Calum jumped slightly, hastily putting the socks back on the rack as he turned around, catching sight of Olivia standing there with a Moonflower bag, missing the curious look that flashed across her face. “Oh,” he blinked before taking it from her, smiling as he added, “Thanks, Liv.”

The nickname just slipped out of his mouth, something she was commonly known by but not used by Calum, and for some reason he found himself strangely worrying if she would be okay with that. Some people were weird with nicknames like that.

But then he saw the soft smile on her face, one that even though it was subtle it still emphasized her cheekbones, and Calum couldn’t help but smile back, feeling his neck warm. Jeez—since when did he blush because of a girl? Olivia just smiled and Calum found himself wanting to smile back without pretense.

“So what’re your plans for today?” Olivia asked casually. She knew she should be getting back to work, especially with the promotion just about being handed to her, but walking away from Calum seemed so. . . Unappealing.

Calum raised his eyebrows, his smile turning into a smirk as he mused, “Why? Got another adventure planned?”

Olivia let out a laugh, a sound so pretty to Calum’s ears, enough to make his heart pick up a pace or two. “Depends on your answer.”

He chuckled before shrugging. “Nothing, as usual. Grams and Gramps are in Wilmington for the day and won’t be back ‘til late. So it’s just me.”

Olivia pouted her lips in thought, prompting Calum’s gaze to almost immediately flicker to her mouth, feeling his throat tighten at the sight of her pink lips. Get a fucking grip, man, he chided himself. “Wanna come over to my place for dinner?” Olivia asked, surprising Calum. “Alana and I order tons of food most Saturday nights and have movie marathons. You’re more than welcome to join.” She added with a grin, “It’s not as much of an adventure, but my sister and I are pretty good company.”

A rush of gratitude flooded Calum at that, and not for the first time since the night of seeing the play did Calum feel fortunate to have found a friend in Olivia. Sure, he still didn’t leave the house as much because she was busy with work and he had no one else to hang out with, except for when he took Bruno out on walks or accompanied his grandparents on errands, but Olivia was there, too. Maybe not physically, but they were texting whenever she could, since her schedule was a lot busier than Calum’s.

Maybe he should get a job.

Calum pushed back a snort. Not likely.

“Sure, if you and your sister don’t mind,” he found himself answering, smiling as Olivia’s grin widened.

“Not at all,” she grinned, her face lighting up with that smile of hers. “I’ll text you the address. Come by around, like, six or seven.”

He nodded and Olivia was bidding him goodbye since she had to go back to work, and Calum found himself leaving the boutique with a smile that only Olivia seemed to be able to bring out in him. And it was strange and maybe a little bit crazy, Calum knew, how one girl could somehow so easily change his attitude when he came to Bridgelake with one as moody and bad as his.

There was a little voice in the back of his head teasing him about Olivia’s words, about the magic of Bridgelake. That same voice was telling him maybe it was all Olivia. Calum pushed it away. He truly sounded crazy.

                                             ✩✩✩✩✩

“Oi! What happened to you promising me the last breadstick?”

Alana grinned unapologetically after swallowing the smaller piece of cheesy bread whole, shrugging innocently at Calum as she hummed, “You snooze, you lose.”

“You can’t trust her around your food, Calum,” Olivia said as she wandered back into the living room, a bottle of beer in each hand before handing one to Calum and settling down next to him on the couch. “She’ll steal it right off your plate. Sometimes even off your spoon.”

Calum shook his head in amusement, his grin widening when Alana snickered from where she sat on the floor. The younger girl then grabbed the TV remote, switching over to Netflix so they could find the first movie of the night they were going to watch. Calum had been over for about an hour now and their food had arrived from the local pizza place around twenty minutes ago, and they already finished all the cheesy bread before even picking the first movie.

He felt immediately at home in Olivia’s apartment, big enough for her and her sister with a joint yet open living room and kitchen space with a hallway leading down to where the girls’ bedrooms were. There were many pictures around the house of the girls with their family, and Calum had felt his heart tug in his chest at the smiling pictures of Olivia and Alana with their parents. He couldn’t imagine how they lived with a dead mother and imprisoned father, and with the smiles he’d seen on their faces so far already, he never would’ve guessed the girls had been through hell.

And with the horrendous way some people in this town treated them with, how they still went through with it with smiles.

He took a sip of his beer, sitting tucked in the corner of the three seater couch, right arm on the arm rest and left draped over the back of the couch, when Alana turned her head around to shoot her sister a wicked smirk. “You know what tonight’s theme is, don’t you, Livvy?”

Calum glanced at the older girl, catching the wary expression cross her face. “No. . . What?” Olivia asked hesitantly, her gaze flickering back to the screen and Calum saw the way her face fell. He followed her gaze, saw that Alana had stopped at the horror/thriller section of Netflix, and heard Olivia let out a groan. “Can we not, please?”

“Nope,” Alana happily chirped, scrolling through the options.

Calum quirked an eyebrow at Olivia, whose shoulders had sunk and face fell, and she saw him looking at her as she huffed. “I hate horror films.”

He smirked, amused. “Never would’ve guessed,” he responded, sarcasm tickling his voice as Olivia rolled her blue eyes and muttered for him to shut up.

“Oh, wait, I know!” Alana suddenly yelled, making the other two jump in surprise as the fourteen year old got to her feet. “Oh, my God I know exactly what we can watch!”

She ran off down the hall, bare feet thudding against the floor as Calum and Olivia stared after her with raised eyebrows until Olivia sighed, “I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

“I’m sure it won’t be too bad,” Calum assured her, laughing into his beer bottle when the blue eyed girl shot him a deadpanned look. Then, cheekily, Calum shot her a wink as he said, “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.”

Olivia’s cheeks heated up at his playful words, unsuccessfully hiding her smile in her own bottle as she took a sip, and Calum could tell because he saw the way her cheeks turned up. He felt almost satisfied, knowing he could make her blush.

Alana ran back into the room and without saying anything to either of them, went up to the TV and turned on the DVD player before putting in whatever movie she brought from her room. Olivia and Calum watched, the former a lot more apprehensive than the latter, as Alana switched the channels, and Olivia let out a groan when the words Sinister appeared on the TV.

“Oh, my God—I’m going to die,” Olivia breathed, her eyes wide. She knew of this movie, had seen the trailer for it when Alana played it for her when she was trying to convince her sister to buy it for her. Unlike Olivia, Alana loved scary films. Whether they were trashy, melodramatic horror or full-fledged horror films that left people having nightmares. And just how Alana loved them, Olivia didn’t see any difference in any of them—they all scared her.

Olivia only bought her sister the movie because she knew Alana wouldn’t stop bitching about it, and because she knew her sister never had nightmares about horror films. But Olivia could barely get halfway through the first time Alana tried to get her to watch it with her, and she knew she wasn’t going to be any less scared now.

To make matters worse, Alana excitedly turned off the lights, enveloping the room in complete darkness save for the glow of the TV, and Olivia swallowed the tight lump in her throat as her sister hit play before sitting comfortably on a floor cushion with her back against the couch Olivia and Calum occupied.

Quickly, Olivia finished off the rest of her beer, knowing the potential jump scares were either going to make her spill the drink or choke on it, and put the empty bottle on the coffee table. Calum and Alana were happily munching away on the pizza, and Olivia wasn’t sure if she should even try to pick up a slice, too nervous for any potential scares that would come her way. She really fucking hated scary movies, and of course the universe would give her a little sister that thrived off of them.

At least Ethan Hawke was in the movie. He was hot.

Of course, that wasn’t entirely enough to make Olivia enjoy the movie. In fact, nearly half way through it, she brought her knees up to her chest and faced her body to the arm rest, back to Calum, cheek resting on her knees and hands brought up to cover her eyes to watch the movie through her fingers. There had been a few scary scenes already with that creepy monster thingy the movie revolved around, and the very sight of it freaked Olivia out.

And when another home movie started playing in the movie they were watching, where the music got loud and intense and downright terrifying because people were dying in it, Olivia closed her eyes and pressed her forehead against her knees, truly unable to watch it. She dismissed the fact that she was probably acting like a big baby, with Calum sitting right there, because she couldn’t help it. She was going to kill Alana for this.

The music was still loud, telling Olivia that the scene was still going on, and she let out a gasp when she felt a hand on her left side, quickly looking over her left shoulder—away from the TV—to see Calum reaching over for her. She stared, surprised, as he offered her a smile and gestured for her to come over.

Olivia took in a deep breath, her heart pounding—most definitely not from the movie anymore—and quickly turned, refusing to look at the TV as Calum kept his arm outstretched for her. She shifted towards him, feeling her cheeks warm up as his arm then moved around her shoulder, and Olivia was suddenly enveloped in Calum’s warm embrace with her knees still brought up and face pressed against his chest, cringing when the music grew more intense, hoping to calm herself down when she inhaled Calum’s familiar vanilla scent. It brought her a wave of comfort, especially when she felt his hand rub her arm and his chin rest atop her head to keep her from looking, knowing that she didn’t want to unless the truly frightening parts had passed.

All the while, Olivia wondered if Calum could feel her quickening heart—just like she could feel his under her ear.

Olivia would be embarrassed that Calum had to comfort her during a movie night she invited him to, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. Being in his embrace unexpectedly brought her solace that surpassed the terror the stupid movie brought. So instead of feeling like an idiot, Olivia welcomed the comfort Calum was giving her, reveling in the softness of his shirt and his familiarly pleasant scent and his warmth.

When the music from the movie died down, Calum lifted his chin from her head and murmured, “Alright, you can look now.”

Taking a breath, Olivia chanced a glance at the TV, seeing Ethan Hawke’s character talking to a police officer and she let out the breath she just inhaled. Instead of moving away from Calum, she found herself staying close, resting her cheek against his chest and watching the movie, ready to look away if something freaky began happening.

She completely missed the smile growing on Calum’s face at her closeness, but didn’t miss the way his heart was a steady, happy beat under his chest. It may or may not be because of her, but it definitely brought a smile to her face.

After the God forsaken horror movie ended, with a jump scare at the end neither Calum nor Olivia saw coming, resulting in her letting out a short scream and an amused laugh from both Calum and Alana, Olivia demanded they watched something heartfelt and light. No way was she going to bed with that movie being the last thing she watched.

They ended up watching one of the Scooby-Doo movies—which, although it wasn’t a scary film, still had Olivia and Calum sitting right next to each other, sides pressed and welcoming the warmth each other provided. Neither moved, neither wanted to move, away, and Olivia was finding it difficult not to let her lips break out into the smile they desperately fought for.

By the time they were done, it was a little after eleven at night, and all the food and jump scares had tired Olivia out. So the three of them cleaned up the living room, ridding of the empty boxes and putting the dishes into the dishwasher.

“Thanks for coming, Calum,” Alana smiled at the man as he put on his shoes. “It was really fun—you should come again next week.”

Calum playfully narrowed his eyes at her, sitting up straight and shrugging on his leather jacket. “You gonna steal my food next time?”

Her grin widened, not at all innocent, bringing a smile to Calum’s face as she shrugged. “We’ll see.” When Olivia returned from her room, having excused herself to grab something, Alana gave Calum a hug. He was surprised, but returned the gesture with a soaring heart as Olivia smiled at them. “See you later, Calum. Goodnight!” Alana chirped happily before turning and running down the hallway.

Olivia smiled after her sister, her hands behind her back as Calum chuckled softly. “She really likes you,” Olivia told him as they walked towards the door. “Thanks for joining us tonight.”

 “Thanks for inviting me,” Calum returned with a genuine smile as he opened the door. Honestly, he really was grateful that Olivia welcomed him here, included him in a night for her and her sister. He would probably be bored out of his mind at the house if he just stayed there, so being around Olivia and Alana was definitely a step up. Calum found himself enjoying their company—he already knew he liked hanging around Olivia, and he found himself adoring Alana and the utter spunk the young girl carried. “I had fun.”

“Me too,” Olivia nodded before letting out a sheepish laugh. “Even if I was using you to hide from the first movie. Thank you for that,” she added, her cheeks once again warming as she recalled his strong arm around her, the occasional soft words he’d whisper to assure her that it was okay. She felt like a baby needing all of that reassurance, but coming from Calum. . . Olivia found her thoroughly enjoying it.

“And as my thanks,” Olivia began once more, pushing back the thoughts of her and Calum’s proximity, her grin widening as she brought her hands around from behind her back, “I got you something.”

Calum’s eyebrows shot up as he caught sight of the lavender Moonflower bag, letting out a scoff of a laugh as he took it from the grinning brunette. “What’s this?” he asked, dipping his left hand into it. When he pulled it out, Calum let out a louder laugh as he caught sight of the blue socks with dressed dogs on them, the very socks he’d been eyeing at the boutique earlier today. “No way.”

Olivia’s grin widened at the sound of his laugh and wide smile on his face. “Don’t think I didn’t see you eyeing those bad boys,” she teased, clasping her hands behind her back. “Honestly, if you weren’t going to buy them for yourself, I totally was.”

His heart was light, the smile on his face easy and genuine because how fucking great was Olivia? The socks were dorky and adorable and Calum loved them, and he was absolutely surprised that she had managed to see his interest in them and decided to act on it. This gift wasn’t at all necessary, but the mere thought of it had Calum’s body igniting with genuine gratitude.

“Thank you, Olivia,” Calum laughed, grinning at the socks before putting them in the bag. He then brought his free arm up, and Olivia stepped into his embrace as her arms wrapped around his waist. Calum’s eyes closed at their closeness, her flowery scent making his heart race. “You’re absolutely incredible.”

Her blush intensified, cheeks probably resembling tomatoes as she modestly joked, “I try, I try.”

They pulled away and Olivia too a steadying breath, shoving her hands in the pockets of her loose sweatpants as she smiled up at Calum, fingers itching to brush back the few curls swooping across his forehead. Her heart felt as though it was about to fly out of her chest with the way his dark eyes were looking at her, as if he was taking her in, and she honestly prided herself for her legs not giving out beneath her. How was anyone supposed to stand upright when Calum was looking at them like that?

Suddenly there was a sound of a phone beeping, and Calum had to force himself to look away from Olivia as he pulled his phone out, seeing that he had a text from his grandmother, asking when he’d be home. “I should get going,” Calum sighed, looking back at Olivia, the soft smile returning. “Thank you for tonight. And this,” he added, lifting the bag slightly.

Olivia returned the smile, nodding along. “No problem,” she told him earnestly as Calum stepped out in the hallway. She held the doorknob, leaning against the door as she hopefully asked, “Text me when you get home?”

It was a short drive, Olivia knew, one she’s made hundreds of times. But a chance to talk to Calum again even after he left her house from being there for hours? Olivia didn’t want to pass it up.

Neither did Calum, it seemed, as he smiled and promised, “Of course.”

--

tags: @irwinkitten @glitterprincelu @sweetcherrymike @meetashthere @valentinelrh @astroashtonio @hereforlukescruff @calsangel @novacanecalum @captain-what-is-going-on @txcobell @angelbbycal @singt0mecalum @hopelessxcynic @lfwallscouldtalk @bodhi-black @findingliam-o @softlrh @calntynes @calumsmermaid @erikamarie41 @quintodosuniversos @longlastingdaydream @babylon-corgis @lukehemmingsunflower @spideyseavey @imfuckin10plybud @liviibi123 @pastelpapermoons @malumharmonies @conquerwhatliesahead92 @rotten-kandy @metangi @neigcthood @ohhmuke @old-zeppelin-shirt @5sos-and-hessa @trustmeimawhalebiologist @vxlentinecal @pettybassists @vaporshawn @lu-my-golden-boi @heartbreak-5sos @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 

[fauhwn]

(wtf fauhwn uses proper grammar??) Howdy folks; this is pretty well overdue considering I made up these kids back in August, but I kept changing the story so there's a lot of inconsistency, and I apologize for that, haha.

Anyways today we-well-I, will be discussing/sharing Ryan's backstory

btw i have little to no knowledge on the military which will be a big part of ryan's story, so forgive me.

(The ski mask son of a bitch)

Again I make changes to the story every 0.2 seconds that my mind can functionally think. Also warning this will be fairly long considering I write a lot.

Ryan McClain (fake identity, not his actual name) was born in Michigan, in the more Northern, rural regions. His birthday is on November 13th, and was born anywhere from 1982-1990, also 6'5. (he's 25 in the story I just quite haven't put a pin on what year it takes place in. But the years are around 2005-2011) His father's name is John Reyes. His mother was Deborah Reyes. She died when Ryan was around 4-5 due to a sickness. John was heartbroken, since he really loved her. He's not a very good father to Ryan, and even before Deborah's death he was pretty shit. Anyways he always brings some woman home every couple of months. Ryan had like 3 or 4 stepmoms lol. They were all bitches too so Ryan didn't like any of them.

When Ryan's mother died, his uncle, David Reyes, took care of him a lot. (Even before her death him and his uncle would get along.) David is a super kind man, and is the older brother of John by quite a lot of years. He was born in like the 1940s or 50s, likely the latter, and was part of like, the Special Forces or something I think. Is also a Vietnam Veteran. Before Ryan was born his wife and son were killed in a car accident, so I guess Ryan reminded David of his son and only caused him to love him more. Anyways he and Ryan would go hunting a lot, and Ryan caught his first animal with a rifle at the age of 7. With the help of his uncle of course. Most of the time Ryan just did all of these things to try and impress his father, who basically did not care. David felt bad for him and he just loved Ryan so he always made sure to give Ryan the attention and love he deserved.

So basically David was the father figure that Ryan needed in his life.

David inspired Ryan a ton, and he'd always marvel at the various medals that David has hung up in a small room in his house, and Ryan wanted to join the military too when he was older. David was in his uh.. 50s, but he still had lots of fight left in him, and teached Ryan a lot of self-defense tactics as well as going to shooting ranges with him. David was a medic too I think. Well he had some prior knowledge on medicine anyways. So he passes that down to Ryan too, and teaches him how to treat stab wounds, bullet wounds, tying a tourniquet, stopping blood loss, etc.

Straying away from Ryan and his lovely uncle we now delve into some more personal shit. So anyways Ryan develops a crush on this girl, Susan, when he first went to high school. They actually dated quite a while later after being friends for a bit, and dated for a long time. And Ryan really liked her.

Now Ryan finishes high school and he's enlisted. He's got a lot of knowledge from his uncle, and it was his uncle who inspired him to join the Marines. He promises his girlfriend and uncle that he will spend as much time with them as he can when he isn't on tour.

Fast forward Ryan is on tour, he's with some guy named Richard Stilles. They're both very capable men, and got along well.

Ryan met this little boy while he was there. He knew no English, but Ryan, being the soft piece of shit he is, sort of just stayed with the little kid for a bit, gave him some snacks and such, tried to have fun with him amidst the war.

Then later, when Richard and Ryan were looking out, they were told there was a little child carrying a bomb. Ryan was like "shit i ain't killing a child"

Suddenly the little boy that Ryan helped out comes out. Ryan smiles, happy to see him okay, but Richard has that constant neutral face on him. The kid starts walking towards Ryan, and Richard pulls up his gun.

"Woah woah Rich, what are you doing?"

"You heard them. Kid has a bomb."

"Wh-wait we can't know for sure it's him! Put the gun down!"

"Can't take any half-measures, Jim."

"We can't kill a fucking child!"

"It's him or us Jim."

Anyways Ryan tries to stop Richard, but the kid kept coming forward.

"Richard please, put the fucking gun down."

Richard starts to aim 😎

"RICHARD PUT IT DOWN-"

BANG!

So the kid drops dead to the floor and Ryan is like 😱 and Richard is like 😐 (He always has a neutral face on) and this shit traumatizes Ryan. Also Richard is some psychopath or something.

Turns out the kid didn't even have a bomb, and Ryan was literally shaking with anger and had tears in his eyes, and nearly beat the shit out of Richard but his other buddy, Samuel, talked him out of it.

Anyways a few more years later Ryan is honorably discharged at 24 years old. He returns home to find out that the 'love of his life' was constantly cheating on him. This shatters Ryan, and he gets just so fucking furious, and Susan and Ryan have a fight. Obviously they break up, and part ways.

Not too long after, Ryan is walking around, when he discovers Susan and some other man. He starts harrassing her, which escaltes to assault. Ryan immediately jumps in, but the dude was pretty fucking aggravated. (It was because Susan said something that wasn't a big deal but he wasn't having it.) In the process, Ryan kills the guy. He's like 😱😱 and Susan is like 😨. Instinctively Ryan rushes to his uncle's house, panicking. Eventually he spills out what just happened to his uncle. David is obviously shocked, but tells Ryan he needs to leave. He knows a guy who can give out fake identities. So anyways David hands Ryan the information.

While Ryan tries to leave, he bumps into Susan. She promises she won't say anything, saying she'll just say it was an 'act of self-defense' by her. Ryan is worried she'll get arrested but Susan is like 'nah i'm a woman we don't go to jail'. She's a bitch but she's still a mildly good person.

Anyways Ryan flies to New York City where he spends his time wearing the infamous ski mask in public to hide his identity (pretty stupid but it just became a habit). His uncle heard he lives in New York, and moves to Vermont. Ryan visits David whenever he can, usually once or twice every few months. But they're in good touch anyway since they're close to each other lol.

Remember our insignificant but soon-to-be-pretty-significant guy Samuel? Turns out he's in NY too. Is paid to treat people outside of the hospital. Anyways so Ryan and Samuel get in touch too.

Fast forward to a year is where the story starts and Ryan meets Zoey.

Oh and about his personality - he's a very pragmatic guy, and is overall pretty chill, cold, and distant. Well if you're close to him then he's more bright. A bit witty if I might add. Doesn't talk much unless-again-you're close to him.

[reallyfamilyfriendlypgclean]

happy birthday, hyunnie~ jaeyong smut

taeyong would be lying if he said he wasn’t mad that his boyfriend, jung jaehyun, went back home to see his parents for his birthday. he understands that they’re his parents and all and they gave him life and whatever but it just so happens that jaehyun’s birthday is the same day as valentine’s day. and taeyong being taeyong, he would have done something big for this event. something that would no doubt give his dear old parents heart attacks if they heard about it. but seeing as jaehyun had left for a week for this momentus occasion, taeyong had to find a way around this little problem.

taeyong and jaehyun had been going out for 3 months after being in the same classes in college but, in all honesty, they hadn’t had anything more than heated make out sessions. this is only because jaehyun is shy, which taeyong finds both cute and mildly aggravating; taeyong has been more than ready for 2 months.

the double trouble of valentine’s day AND jaehyun’s birthday is the perfect excuse to finally show jaehyun who he really is: a kinky little bitch - but the universe must be against him finally fucking jaehyun. well...jaehyun’s parents must be against him finally fucking jaehyun. that’s not gonna stop taeyong.

they had been facetiming each other every night since jaehyun went to his parents house, talking about their day and saying how much they miss each other but seeing as this night was jaehyun’s birthday, taeyong knew he had to make it special. and jaehyun could tell something was up when he answered the call to find taeyong sitting on his knees in front of the camera.

usually, taeyong would have his laptop on his lap as he sat in his bed. or he would be lying down on his stomach with his laptop tilted down toward his face. what was he planning?

"hello." taeyong breathed. even his voice sounded different.

"hello?" jaehyun replied, confusion laced in his voice.

"how’s your birthday going? did you get any nice presents?" taeyong asked. his voice was still more gentle than usual and even if the conversation sounded normal, jaehyun could tell something was weird. still, he brushed past it and played along with the conversation.

"I didn’t really get anything too special. it was just nice to see my parents after a year of being away, you know? still, I missed you a lot."

"I missed you too. I’ve been thinking about you all day. I should be with you for valentine’s day." taeyong’s face dropped a little but his breathy voice never faltered.

"oh yeah it’s valentine’s day! how could I forget?" jaehyun chuckled slightly at himself and looked down at his laptop’s keyboard, thinking about how he forgot such and important date. he was brought back to his senses as he looked up at the screen to see taeyong smirking. he couldn’t look past this any longer.

"you’re acting weird. is everything okay?" jaehyun questioned, slightly worried. but taeyong ignored his question.

"are your parents at home?" taeyong asked. he mentally laughed at himself for sounding like a teenage boy trying to get laid for the first time.

"um...no they went out for dinner. why?" jaehyun’s face was adorably quizzical.

"and they left you alone on your birthday?" taeyong ignored jaehyun’s question again and pouted, though he was more than pleased to hear that they were all alone.

"taeyong. what’s going on?" jaehyun said a little more sternly, almost annoyed that taeyong was ignoring his questions. in response, taeyong smirked and took a deep breath in.

"so, when you come back, I can give you your real present but, for now, this will have to do." taeyong breathed. with that, he reached his hands to the hem of his white shirt and lifted it, tantalisingly slow. his smirk remained plastered to his lips and he could see jaehyun’s confused demeanour shatter as his eyes widened comically and his lips parted ever so slightly. taeyong finally removed his shirt completely and tossed it to the side and jaehyun was speechless. he had only seen taeyong shirtless a few times but there was something new and very noticeable.

taeyong had nipple piercings.

it was impossible not to notice the distinctive metal bars poking horizontally through both of the pink buds, making them permanently erect. taeyong chuckled at jaehyun’s awestruck face, evidently staring directly at taeyong’s chest and even with the low resolution of the call, he could see the beautifully pink blush beneath both of jaehyun’s cheeks. how endearing.

"do you like them?" taeyong questioned, voice slightly smaller than before, slightly worried that jaehyun didn’t like them.

"i-....wow." was all jaehyun could say before quickly snapping his mouth shut and moving his gaze anywhere but the screen in front of him. taeyong giggles and the sound made the blush on jaehyun’s cheeks creep up to the tips of his ears.

"this isn’t all of your present, you know." as taeyong says this, he slowly and carefully reaches down to his belt buckle, almost afraid of scaring jaehyun away as if he’s a baby animal. he carefully unloops the belt and reaches down to the button of his jeans, swiftly undoing it. he doesn’t break eye contact with his webcam as he tugs at the zip between his fingers and he swears he hears jaehyun whimper. he smoothly tugs down his jeans and watches for jaehyun’s reaction to the pink lace panties he's wearing that match his hair.

he definitely heard him whimper that time.

he kicks away his jeans and giggles a little, rubbing over the clothed outline of his cock, sucking air in through his teeth at the contact. jaehyun can only stare. he feels a bit creepy for watching like this -- like he’s invading someone’s privacy -- but he reminds himself that this is his boyfriend. his boyfriend. only his.

he zones back into the current situation as taeyong begins to peel off the panties. jaehyun's eyes flash down to meet taeyong’s semi-hard but wonderfully thick member and immediately retracts his eyes down to his bedsheets.

"look at me jaehyunnie" taeyong breathes. cautiously, jaehyun's eyes lift to find taeyong slowly stroking his member. jaehyun groans before quickly covering his mouth.

"don’t cover your mouth jaehyunnie. i wanna hear you". jaehyun’s hand lowers, resting on his belt buckle. taeyong smirks as he sees jaehyun’s hand twitching and inching towards the prominent bulge in his jeans.

"please touch yourself, daddy" taeyong whines.

at that, jaehyun snaps. he grunts and growls a low "fuck this" as he races to remove his belt, unzip his jeans and tug down his underwear in record time. he firmly grabs his solid length and releases a deep, drawn out moan as he slowly rubs it from the base to the tip, thumbing at it harshly.

taeyong whines at the sight of jaehyun’s large length, sticking three fingers from his free hand into his mouth, licking and sucking whilst wishing it was jaehyun's cock that was resting so nicely against his tongue. jaehyun's hand picks up its pace as he stares at the three digits disappearing in and out of the cherry boy’s wet lips.

taeyong releases his fingers from his mouth with a pop and breathily whines "what do you want me to do now?".

jaehyun’s blush returns as he’s reminded that this situation isn’t a dream and, after thinking about it way too hard, he replies "...f-finger yourself for me". taeyong smirks at how small jaehyun's voice sounds and he swiftly turns around and positions himself on his hands and knees so the camera can see his whole ass and the side of his face.

"is this okay, jaehyunnie?" jaehyun grunts as he replies with a breathless "yes" before spreading the precum that gathered at the top of his dick down along the sides. taeyong’s smile is only just visible in the darkness of his webcam’s view but his finger sliding between his thighs and reaching up to circle his rim is definitely visible and causes jaehyun to clench his eyes shut and squeeze his now throbbing cock tighter in his palm.

"daddy watch me"

taeyong whines as one of his digits disappears straight into the red rim. jaehyun releases a loud moan as he watches the muscle expand and shrink around taeyong’s finger. oh how he wishes he was there.

and just like taeyong read his mind, he says "i bet you wanna fuck my tight hole, don’t you daddy?" and jaehyun’s eyes clench shut as he growls a low "y-yes baby" and begins to thrust up into his fist.

when he opens his eyes after just appreciating the wet sounds coming from his shitty laptop speakers, taeyong has already added two more fingers and the new pressure against his hole causes him to let out a string of moans even louder than before. involuntarily, jaehyun lets out a low "fuck" as he adds more pressure to his own dick, imagining himself sliding in and out of taeyong’s tight hole. he knows he could bring so much more pleasure than those fingers. feeling a little bit courageous, jaehyun says "add another finger, baby" and hearing him say that, taeyong arches his back and whimpers.

he does as he’s told and his moans almost turn to screams as he reaches deeper, turning his head to watch jaehyun’s cock disappearing in his fist. taeyong knows that jaehyun’s length could reach further than his fingers ever could. "I wish you were here, daddy. I wish it was you who was filling me up so well. I wish you would fill me up with your cum until it drips out of me. I wish you would fuck me so hard ‘til I can’t walk for days. daddy- I want you so so bad." as taeyong reaches the last sentence, he finds his prostate and releases a short scream, followed by a series of loud moans and whines. jaehyun’s other hand has reached up under his shirt by now and has started pinching his nipples, making him moan out taeyong’s name repeatedly as he imagines him biting them. his hand’s pace picks up as his breathing gets heavier and he gets closer and closer to his release. "maybe I can make your wishes come true, cumslut." jaehyun growls.

that’s what pushes taeyong over the edge. his fingers hit his prostate once more before he screams and strings of white paint his sheets beneath him. his fingers keep up their brutal pace to bring jaehyun to his climax which arrives shortly after with moans of taeyong’s name.

they both slow their pace until taeyong collapses into the river of cum beneath him but he’s too tired to care. jaehyun catches his breath before he looks up to see taeyong collapsed and barely moving on his bed. "taeyong...are you dead?" jaehyun jokes. he could just about see the smile appear on taeyong’s face as he lightly chuckles with his cheek pressed against his sheets. he struggles to push himself up to a sitting position in front of the camera and jaehyun almost gets hard again at the sight of taeyong with cum streaked across his torso, some even smudge over his nipple piercings.

"you look good like that, baby." jaehyun smirks. "wow where did this confidence come from?" taeyong giggles as he leans forward onto his stomach and rests his chin in his hands. jaehyun stares in wonder at how this being in front of him could be so cute even after what just happened. "you should sleep, yongie." jaehyun says, concern laced in his voice. "so should you, hyunnie." taeyong replies, mocking jaehyun’s use of taeyong’s pet name.

"trust me, I will. I have to see my grandparents tomorrow and you’ve worn me out!" jaehyun’s face appears fake-annoyed. taeyong lets out his signature high-pitched giggle and stares at his beautiful boyfriend.

"happy birthday, jaehyunnie." taeyong smiles.

"thank you for the best present I’ve ever received," jaehyun replies with a smirk. now it was taeyong’s turn to blush, "and believe me when I say that your wishes will come true."

"but shouldn’t you be the one making wishes? It’s your birthday after all." taeyong pouts slightly.

"maybe my wish has already come true." jaehyun replies. his dimples deepen as his smile spreads across his cheeks.

"you’re so cheesy. but I love you." taeyong giggles.

"only for you, baby." jaehyun laughs. taeyong blushes furiously as he looks into his boyfriend’s crystal eyes. what a perfect birthday.

[dontdoitluke]

We Could Be Heroes - Ch 3

Sky High AU, but instead, it’s a superhero University. 

Summary: It’s the weekend, and the gang decides to have a movie night. Luke brings one (1) string cheese, something mildly catastrophic happens, and Michael becomes a mother. 

Chapter: 3/?

CHAPTER INDEX

Word Count: 2,662

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Tags: @calumamongmen   @myloverboyash   @wildhearthood  @vintagehoods  @lukescherrypie   @burncrashbromance   @dukesnumber1  @calsophat  @kindahoping4forever  @lockthisheartinchains  @babylon-corgis  @lfwallscouldtalk  @badguycal

It had been about a month into the semester and the Pablo’s group had grown to be close friends, even Jenna and Luke, who continued to attack each other on a daily basis. Movie night had also become a regular thing for them; they would all meet up on Saturday night in one of their dorms with snacks and drinks and pick a movie on one of their streaming accounts. Tonight, movie night was held in Michael’s dorm.

Michelle was the first one to arrive. It was an unspoken rule that whenever it was just Michelle and Michael, they communicated telepathically due to Michael’s inability to turn off his power, so instead of knocking, she directed her thoughts at him to let him know she was here. He opened the door with a smile and ushered her inside.

“You can put that stuff on my desk,” Michael thought, and moved his laptop and books to the side. Michelle sat the bag down on the clear spot and smiled. “I hope you like Takis, because that’s what I brought.”

“I’ve never had them, but I’m sure I’ll love them. Any idea when the rest of the nerds are going to get here?” Michael wondered. Michelle kicked her shoes off by the door and hummed in thought, pulling her long hair off of her neck and wrapping it into a bun at the top of her head. “I haven’t heard much. Val is currently trying to devise a plan to get Calum to carry her over in his stomach, I’m assuming Ally and Emma are still at the store, I can hear them mentally complaining about the price of gas station candy, Jen just texted me to let me know she’s on her way, and Carly is...right outside.”

Sure enough, a soft knock at the door confirmed that Carly was indeed right outside. Michael opened the door to let her in, greeted her, and pointed to the desk for her to put her things down.

“I brought homemade Sangria!” She sang, proudly pulling a half gallon jug out of her backpack and swirling the red wine and fruit around. “I may end up drinking all of this myself, not gonna lie.”

Before Michelle could threaten to banish Carly from movie night for not sharing, Luke, Ashton, and Jenna entered the room, followed by another girl, one that Michael, Michelle, and Carly had never met.

“I found a stray, I hope it’s alright that I brought her,” Jenna said, moving to stand next to the girl. “This is Viv, she’s in my combat training class, and she’s an absolute badass.”

“Geez, you’re gonna make me blush, stop it,” Viv covered her face and laughed. “I just...use a lot of dirty tricks and dodging.”

“They’re unexpected methods. That’s smart,” Michael gushed, throwing a black bedsheet over his futon. “Ally and Emma are here, can one of you guys open the door?”  

Luke turned the knob and swung the door open just as Emma went to knock; she ended up knocking on Luke’s chest instead.

“Woah, now, I’ve had girls try to get into my heart in many different ways, but politely knocking is a new one.”

Michelle and Jenna gagged and shoved Luke out of the way to let Emma and Ally through while Ashton quietly started arranging the snacks and drinks on the desk. Ally joined him and opened her bag, setting out the candies she’d bought and multiplied.  

“You’re quiet today, more than usual, I mean. Is everything okay, Ash?” she asked quietly so as not to draw attention from the rest of the group, or the ones that don’t have supersonic hearing, anyway.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not.”

Ashton turned and looked down at Ally, furrowing his brows in anger and growled, “Oh, so you’re gonna tell me what I am, now? You’re gonna ask me if I’m okay, then call me a liar?”

Unphased by the outburst, she nodded once. “Yes. I am. I know an automatic answer when I hear it.”

He opened his mouth to speak, but then closed it again and inhaled deeply, clenched his jaw, and turned back to the desk, fiddling with one of the bags of chips that Michelle brought.

“I’ll...be okay. I’m just aggravated today, is all. Some personal issues about my power. I don’t really want to talk about it right now. But maybe later, when we don’t about to have a room full of people. Okay?”

“Okay.” Ally placed her hand on top of Ashton’s and squeezed gently, hoping to calm him down a little more. She learned pretty quickly that he had a hard time controlling his temper; he almost brought down the gazebo in the university courtyard with a spastic earthquake simply because one of the third years accidentally stepped on his heel.  

“Don’t keep things bottled up for too long, though.”

“Yeah, yeah, I got you.”

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- “So, is this everything?”

“I think so.”

“Yeah, I brought some paper plates too, just in case.”

“Wait, Luke, what did you bring?”

Luke hesitated a moment before patting and searching his pockets. He made a happy sound in the back of his throat when he found what he was looking for in the pocket of his S.A.V.E.U. hoodie, reached in, and pulled out a single stick of string cheese.

“Luke, what the fuck?”

“Hey, I didn’t get the chance to go buy something. Besides, Ally can just make more, right?”

Ally scoffed and crossed her arms. “You think you can just use me and my power like that? Is that all you think I’m good for? How dare you treat me like-you know what, fuck yeah, I love string cheese, gimme that.”  

She snatched the packaged cheese out of his hand and moved to the table to get to work on duplicating the snack while the rest of the group howled with laughter, all except Michael who was near tears and desperately trying to fuse his headphones to his ears.

“I’m going to kick every last one of you out if you don’t learn to turn down the volume.”

Calum bit his lip and stuck his hands in his pockets. “Shit, Mike. Sorry, we keep forgetting, you’re usually okay with it if you have the plugs in, too.”

“Yeah, but we usually aren’t in small spaces like this, either. The last few movie nights we had were bad, too.”

“Man...and you haven’t made any progress with it? Dulling the sound, I mean?”

Michael shook his head sadly and turned to the TV to set up his cables. “It’s whatever. Can we move on, now?” -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“So, let me get this straight...you can tie and untie shoelaces.”

“Yep.”

“But not like, other kinds of rope.”

“Nope.”

“Just...just shoelaces.”

“Yep.”

Viv popped a few pieces of popcorn into her mouth and shrugged. “I’m not mad about it, though. It’s completely useless and I like it that way. I don’t want to have an extravagant power.”

Luke tossed back the rest of the sangria in his cup and hummed. “I could see how that could be useful, like, if someone is robbing a bank and you-”

“Don’t give my power any kind of usefulness!” Viv giggled and shook her head. “I really do like having a useless power. It means I won’t be volunteered to do things I don’t want to do.”

“God, that’s such a mood,” Val sighed.

“What about your power, Ally?” Viv tilted her head. “What else can you duplicate? Aside from food, I mean.”

Ally hummed and chewed thoughtfully on a piece of chocolate. “I haven’t really thought about it. I mean I know I can do inanimate objects. And I can do plants. That’s really useful on Valentine's Day. I think I can duplicate anything as long as it isn’t too big. I tried making another bicycle once...that didn’t turn out well.”

“What about people?”

“Hm?”

“Can you clone people?”

“You know, I’ve never thought about it, and I’ve never tried it. I don’t think I can.”

“I’d clone myself a Calum that would actually be willing to swallow me,” Val chirped, and Calum groaned in disgusted response. “Please stop, I’m not gonna fucking eat you.”

“Eating implies digesting. I just wanna hang out in your gut for a little bit.”

“Jesus...”

Viv shrugged. “Could always try it now.”

Ally snorted into her cup and coughed. “You’ve gotta be kidding!”

“I mean how else are you gonna know if you can clone people if you don’t try it?”  

“Uh, I don’t think it’s such a good idea, and I’m usually all for bad ideas,” Luke squeaked. “I mean, it’s a person we’re talking about.”

“For once, I actually have to agree with Luke,” Jenna balled up an empty chip bag and threw it into the waste basket. “It’s one thing to test your power out on, like, a rock or something, it’s another to test it on a person.”

“You test your power out on me all the time, Nerf Gun.”

“You’re not a person in my eyes, Fluke.”

“Guys, shh, Michael is sleeping, please don’t wake him,” Skyler whispered. Sure enough, Michael was curled up in the corner of his bed with a pillow over his head. “Poor thing barely gets enough sleep as it is.”

“Test it on Michael. He’s asleep, he won’t notice,” Ashton mumbled.

“I can’t do that!” Ally sputtered. “First of all, that’s just rude, second-”

“For real, what’s the worst that could happen? What happened with your failed duplicates?”

“The duplicate just came out deformed. But Michael is a living person, he could get hurt.”

“He could also end up okay.”

"Jesus, fine!” Ally hissed and stood up, storming over to Michael’s sleeping form and thrust her hands out in front of her, placing them on his hip. She stood there for a moment in silence, the rest of the group watched anxiously for something to happen.

“Is it...uh...”

“I’m trying.”

A few seconds passed and not a word was spoken and everyone began to fidget nervously.

Carly stood and took a few slow steps toward Ally and placed her hand on her shoulder. “Okay, so it doesn’t work and Michael is okay, let’s go back...to...uh, you’re burning up...are you-”

“I-I can’t...move...it hurts...”

Viv jumped up and rushed to Ally and Carly. She grabbed a hold of one of Ally’s arms and attempted to pull her away from Michael, but she wouldn’t move. It was as if she was made of stone and fused to the ground.  

“Shit, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have told you to do this!”

“I can’t...I can’t stop. H-help!”

Calum, Val, Luke, and Michelle also stood and began to try to pull Ally’s hands away. Ashton sat, frozen in place and eyes wide, brimming with tears. “My fault...it’s my fault...”

Emma grabbed his face in her hands and forced him to look away from the group trying to pull Ally away from Michael. “Hey, hey, calm down, this isn’t your fault, you and Viv made a suggestion but Ally made the decision, it’s no one's fault and it’s definitely not yours, it-Ashton, no, look at me! You’re making the walls shake again, you need to breathe.”

Even with the combined cacophony of the friends struggling to stop Ally and the brick walls vibrating, Michael was still seemingly asleep. Michelle ripped the pillow off of his head to check his breathing.  

“Michael’s okay, Ally. Please, try to focus, you need to focus!”

Ally shut her eyes tightly and sobbed, desperately trying to pull herself away from his body.

“Let me try something!” Skyler stepped to the side and put her hand on Michael next to Ally’s and conjured a forcefield, wedging it into the spot where they were connected. Almost instantaneously, Ally’s hand disconnected from Michael’s hip and she fell backwards into Michelle and Luke. Michael sat up and glared at Ally angrily.  

“What the fuck were you just trying to do to me? I couldn’t fucking move, or talk, or anything!”

Panting softly, Ally hung her head. “I-I was...I’m sorry, I-”

“It was my fault,” Viv cut her off. “I suggested that she try duplicating a person, and-”

“And you guys decided that I was the best candidate?”

Ashton made a pained noise in the back of his throat and wiped the tears off of his cheeks. “No, I did. I’m so sorry Mike.”

Michael looked at every person in the room before sighing and rubbing his eyes. “It’s...it’s okay. I’m okay. Are you okay, Ally?”

She slowly nodded, sniffling softly.  

“Just don’t ever do that shit again.”

“Guys...”

Michael moved to help Ally off of the floor and used his sleeve to wipe tears off of her cheeks.

“Hey, guys?”

“Are you sure you’re okay, Michael?” Calum asked softly.

“Guys!”

“What, Luke?!”

“What the fuck is that?”

The group turned to look under the desk where Luke was pointing. Next to Michael’s backpack was a fleshy pulsating mound about the size and shape of a crudely made rag doll.

“Is Emma trying to prank us again?”

“I’m right here, you dick.”

“Then what is that thing?!”

The fleshy doll-like thing began to take an even more coherent shape, its tiny stub arms began to grow hands and its head began to grow ears. A slit in its face opened up to form a mouth, and two different sized slits opened and a pair of eyes the exact same color as Michael’s peeped back at the group. No one said a word, and no one moved. The tiny being stood on its little feet and took a couple of steps toward Michael and looked up, twisting its little mouth into what could be perceived as a smile, and spoke in a scratchy, throaty voice.

“Mmmahh, mmmm-Mickey!”

Luke jumped backward and let out such a high-pitched scream that the window and the TV screen cracked, and a mug on Michael’s desk broke cleanly in half.  

“What the fuck, what the actual fuck??”

“Is that...Michael’s duplicate?” Emma whispered.

The alien-like being swayed back and forth with the weight of its head and blew raspberries at Michael. “Mickey! Am Mickey!”

Michael stood frozen, staring down at his clone with a horrified expression. “He...hello to you, too, Mickey...”

Mickey squealed with happiness and lifted its little arms.

“I think he wants you to pick him up.”

“I...o-okay...”

Michael shakily bent and took hold of Mickey and lifted him in his hands, holding him as far away from his body as he could.  

“Gross...what does he feel like?”

“He feels like a...kinda like a newborn baby. Which I guess...that’s what he is, right?”

Ally had backed herself into a corner and rubbed her temples. She couldn’t believe she had actually cloned a person. It was a failed person, but it was still a person, and it sent a million thoughts running through her head. Michael slowly got used to holding Mickey; he sat on the edge of his bed and placed the little clone on his knee, turning his head and inspecting his different sized eyes and ears, his little fingerless hands, his crooked little smile. After the initial shock faded away, Michael even thought that he was kind of cute.  

“So how do we get rid of it?”

Michael snapped his head up and glared at Luke. “You will do no such thing.”

Luke scoffed and cringed at Mickey. “But...it’s hideous.”

“So are you, but your mom didn’t get rid of you when you were born.”

“Oh, so now you’re it’s mom?”

Michael took a long look at Mickey, who was currently sucking on one of his hands and looking all around the room and smiling at each student.  

“Yeah. I am.”

Ashton giggled for the first time in a while. “So that makes Ally his dad.”

Calum sighed and rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. He just wanted to have one normal movie night. Just one. Without any clone babies or Val begging him to swallow her. Was that too much to ask?

[liamakorn]

Spoopy Love

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader (Ghost-Hunter AU) 

Warnings: None. It’s a fluff fest y’all. Seriously, hand me Peter Parker, and watch my heart explode. 

Words: 5,092

A/N: GUYS!!! I had so much fun writing this, you have no idea. Somehow, it turned into a Buzzfeed Unsolved AU, and I aint even mad lol. This is for the August AU Writing Challenge by @after-avenging-hours . Hope y’all enjoy it as much as I did, our smol awkward boy deserves all the love! 

I tried to keep it as short as I could, lol, but uh....I think I failed. Sorry XP 

------

“I am so not going in there.”

A small whine that sounded vaguely like your name left his lips, brunette curls shifting in the small autumn breeze.

“Oh, c’mon, where’s your sense of adventure?”

Glancing at Peter, you must’ve made a face, because now he was chuckling, bumping your shoulder lightly with his own. A small, handheld camera hung by a cord on his wrist, swaying to and fro with every movement.

You focused your gaze on the house in front of you, trying to muster up some enthusiasm. It was cold, the sun was setting, and you really didn’t want to be here. How you’d managed to let him drag you on this “adventure”, you’ll never know. Oh, wait, that’s right, he’d flashed those puppy dog eyes and you’d just melted.

However, this was a little beyond your comfort zone. The house was huge, three stories in all. But what it had in grandeur was ruined by the state of the building itself; exposed wood paneling, the rotted porch with hardly a pillar left, shutters barely clinging to their windows. God, you could smell the mold from here. You noticed a few rats dart beneath the cracked walls and nearly fainted.

After another nudge, Peter finally grabbed your attention, pouting at your expression.

“Oh c’mooon! We’re about to catch the only known footage of Eliza Cartwright’s ghost! Aren’t you at least a little excited?”

Allowing yourself one last sigh, you managed a nervous smile, readjusting the heavy bag slung across your shoulder.

“This is a health and safety hazard.”

Somehow, you put one foot in front of the other, forcing your steps closer to the hell hole you were about to spend the majority of your night in. After a few seconds, you noticed Peter wasn’t following, glancing back with an eyebrow raised.

“Well, c’mon, Dimples. This ghost aint gonna catch itself!”

The crooked grin you received was worth every discomfort this house could throw at you.

It’s not like you didn’t want to believe in ghosts. You would’ve loved to have had the same enthusiasm for the supernatural that seemed to flow through Peter every time someone uttered the word “haunted”. It just seemed like there was always a more logical explanation, an answer that made more sense than the supposed “paranormal activity”. Banging in the walls? Faulty pipes. Scratching noises and flickering lights? Mice. Doors closing by themselves? Wind.

Yet, somehow, you ended up a moderator on Peter Parker’s ghost hunting blog, staring up at a dusty old house, on a Saturday. Life sure did have a sense of humor.

Stepping through the creaky front door, you were met with a wall of what could only be described as old people smell, kicked up to eleven. You couldn’t help but cough, taking stock of your surroundings. Dust hung in the air, catching the last few beams of sunlight creeping through the slats of decaying boards, which were haphazardly secured to the windows with rusty nails. The walls were nothing special, decades old paint flaking from the plaster, faded and worn from years of neglect.

The furniture was coated with a thick layer of dust and dirt, making it nearly impossible to discern what color each item had originally been. The cushions seemed to be missing; you counted that as a blessing. Who knows what would’ve been living in there.

A sudden achoo! startled you from your thoughts, shattering the silence of the otherwise abandoned house. Spinning on your heel, you just caught Peter’s wince, the brunette lifting the camera as you pressed your hand to your chest.

“Give me frickin heart attack, why don't’cha?”

His smirk was almost shy as he apologized, chuckling when you lightheartedly shoved his shoulder. You plopped your bag onto the couch, a cloud of dust kicking back into your face. You dug around for your own camera, hiding your face from view and trying to calm your blush. Jesus, how had he wormed his way under your skin so easily? You’d only known each other for a few months, having become fast friends after you’d transferred to his high school at the very end of the year. It was an odd experience, walking into this new school the first day and having Peter and Ned bombard you with greetings.

One minute you were the weirdo loner girl who couldn’t keep up with the new curriculum because she’d moved in fricken June, and the next, you had two amazing friends who actually wanted to hang out with you. Hell, it was that first day of school where Peter had nervously approached you and asked if you wanted to come with him to check out this stupid house in the first place. 

You’d been inclined to say no, but after looking at his expression...you just couldn’t. He’d sounded almost scared, like you would make fun of him or something. Well, needless to say, you’d caved, and here you were, the day before Halloween, hunting a ghost. And, despite your best efforts, enjoying yourself.

Heaving out a sigh, steeling yourself, you turned to face Peter, unable to keep the smile from your face at his fascinated gaze raking the dilapidated living room.

“You ready, Parker?”

An excited grin stretched his features, brown eyes sparkling in the dim beam of your flashlight. His enthusiasm was contagious, and you soon found yourself just as impatient to explore as he was. Attaching a go-pro to the side your head, you noticed Peter staring at you with an expression you couldn’t read. He quickly averted his gaze, clearing his throat and fiddling with the camera. You could’ve sworn you saw pink dusting his cheeks.

As happy as seeing Peter this excited made you, that was quickly dwindled by the borderline dangerous nature of your surroundings. Everything was either rusty, dusty, moldy, or all of the above. You noted the exposed wood of the walls, some of the panels rotted away completely, other rooms visible in some places. Meanwhile, your companion continued to monologue, recounting on camera the details of a grisly death.

“The first spirit we’ll be covering is Christopher Requaitt. He came from the incredibly small town of Seboeis, Maine, and had a relatively poor upbringing. And yet, somehow, he managed to graduate at the top of his class, earning him a job in the household of one James Cartwright. It was rumored that he had been working off a debt to Cartwright, and that, after it was paid, he was hired full time due to his incredible culinary ability. However, these claims were never officially documented.”

You hardly realized you’d stopped scanning your surroundings, completely enraptured by the way Peter’s lips moved as he recounted the tale. Even as you started fiddling with various settings and EMF machines, you kept an ear on him, glancing up every once in awhile, enthralled by the story he was telling. Although you were a skeptic, it was hard not to be interested in the lives of people before you, hearing their history sending a shiver down your spine.

Peter continued, the confident edge to his voice catching you by surprise.

“One night, Cartwright’s wife, Cheryl, became incredibly sick. It would soon be known that she was pregnant with her first, and only, child; but, at the time, she claimed to have food poisoning, contracted from undercooked chicken. Due to Requaitt’s incredible reputation and skill, many have speculated that the accusation was meant to get Christopher fired. She had made her distaste for the cook obvious, never missing a chance to denounce him to her friends and acquaintances.

It is widely believed, by both residents and historians, that James and Christopher had been in the midst of an affair, an incredibly taboo subject at the time. Cheryl, either jealous or afraid for their reputation, might have wanted to take drastic action to halt their activities. Although he was saddened by it, Cartwright had no choice but to fire the cook. Finding himself wracked with woebegone, Chris-”

A snort escaped your lips, earning a playfully annoyed look from Peter. You coughed, trying to disguise your giggles behind your hand. He raised an eyebrow, directing the camera at you, catching your amused expression.

“Something wrong, munchkin?”

You chuckled again, shaking your head.

“Nope, nothing, I’m good. Please, continue.”

Rolling his eyes, he readjusted the camera, a soft smile on his face.  

“Anyway. Finding himself wracked in woebegone-”

He stared directly at you as he emphasized the word, setting off a new round of giggles, prompting a wider grin to stretch his lips.

“-Christopher found he couldn’t live with James’ decision, stuffing his face in the deep frying, killing himself and burning his face off before they could make him leave.”

“Christ, Parker!”

He halted, furrowing his brows in bemused confusion. You tried for an aggravated expression, only just managing a mildly miffed look before a smile broke out.

“Could you be a bit more blunt?”

He chuckled, pink dusting his cheeks even as he shrugged.

“What? That’s what happened, what d’you want me to say?”

You released a huff of air.

“I dunno, Pete, just...you can’t speak ill of the dead, man, that’s like, rule number one in the ghosty handbook.”

Peter’s eyebrows shot up, an amused smirk on his lips.

“Oh, there’s a handbook now? Miss (Y/N) ‘I’m sure it was just the wind’ (L/N)?”

A flurry of giggles interrupted your sentence, covering your mouth to try and contain them. “I’m just saying, have a little respect, Parker!”

A victorious grin stretched his features, your heart skipping a beat when he let out the cutest laugh you’d ever heard.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. Should I mention the fact that the only way they could identify him was by his clothing, because his features had melted together-”

You faked a disgusted face, covering your ears. His snickering sent a warm feeling dancing in your chest, the smile on your face lingering even as your chuckles died. You admired him for a moment, the crinkles in the corner of his eyes, dimples fully on display with his wide grin. Even in the dim beam of your flashlight, shadows dancing across his features; god, he was breathtaking.

After a few seconds, Peter cleared his throat, a touch of shyness flashing across his face.

“You, uh, you alright there, munchkin?”

Snapping out of your daze, you nodded, fiddling with the EMF meter at your belt.

“Yeah, yeah, let’s move on. You mentioned a little girl?”

That familiar sparkle returned to his eye, gripping your wrist suddenly and practically dragging you up the creaking staircase. You fought a laugh, heart pounding at his touch, no matter how minor. You really needed to get a grip on your crush.

You ended up in yet another dusty room, covered wall to wall in what was once a pale pink, but had faded to grey over time. The same confident tone as before overtook his voice, face stone serious as he began his spiel about the area’s most popular spirit.

“Here we are in the bedroom of James Cartwright’s six-year-old daughter, Eliza. She was born barely a year after the death of Christopher Requaitt, leading the residents of the town to question Requaitt’s death. Though nothing came of it legally, gossip and rumors of the supposed affair between Cartwright and Requaitt resulted in Cheryl’s eventual suicide, leaving James with Eliza when she was only four. Tragedy would strike again two years later, when Valerie Peridot would witness one of the many supernatural occurrences in the home. Only, unlike the others, this one was fatal.

“Peridot was the most recent in a long line of women James Cartwright dated after his wife’s death. She had only been dating him for three months before moving in, treating Eliza like her own daughter. But, as she entered the little girl’s room, she was startled to find the large window open, the child standing on the balcony railing and speaking to someone Valerie was unable to see. She seemed upset, screaming at the unseen figure to go away. When Valerie opened her mouth to scold her, Eliza jolted, as if she was pushed, flying from the third-floor balcony to the asphalt below”

Your eyebrows shot up, catching Peter’s attention for a brief second. The crooked half smile he sent your way was enough to catch your breath, hoping to any god out there that he didn’t notice.

“After Eliza’s death, Peridot was obviously suspected, her story of an unseen man shoving the girl out a window seeming preposterous. However, diary entries were found of Eliza’s, mentioning an imaginary friend named “Krissy". Law enforcement thought nothing of it, but spectral enthusiasts disagreed. It was speculated that perhaps “Krissy" was actually the ghost of Christopher Requaitt, enacting his revenge of what was the product of his demise. Eliza mentioned Krissy’s distaste for her family, specifically her mother. Even after her death, the spirit had apparently denounced Cheryl to the young girl, trying to convince her to “remind her father of his sins”. While these claims are somewhat far fetched, is it impossible to believe that Requaitt, heartbroken and betrayed by his lover, would seek retribution in the way of Eliza’s death?”

Peter glanced at you again, tilting his head slightly in question.

“Are you cold?”

You furrowed your brows, confused for a moment. You hadn’t even noticed your own arms encircling your torso, goosebumps rising on your bare arms, too engrossed in his story. Shrugging, you tried rubbing your palms together, the temporary warmth doing nothing to soothe the chill.

“I’m fine. Just a bit chilly is all, let’s keep moving.”

After a few seconds, he nodded, but not before shrugging off his jacket and draping it over your shoulders.

“We’ll only be a few more minutes. Just wanna use the spirit box and then we can head out.”

He lead the way towards a narrow hallway, just missing your intense blush. You tailed him, whining slightly.

“Can we not? I fucking hate that thing.”

He snickered, glancing back at you briefly; your heart fluttered at his bashful smile, slipping your arms into the sleeves of his coat. The fabric completely obscured your hands, filling you with a warmth that rivaled the pink on your cheeks.

Leading into the maid’s quarters was a rundown hallway, barely any plaster left on the walls. This area of the house seemed...moister than the rest, a distant leak echoing around the space. It sent shivers down your spine that had nothing to do with the cold.

“Well....this is ominous.”

Peter laughed, pointing the camera at you once again.

“You scared, Munchkin?”

You lightheartedly shoved him, shaking your head. It was getting increasingly difficult to be annoyed when he flashed those stupid dimples. Peter began setting up the camera against a far wall, pulling out a small black gadget, explaining the mechanism simultaneously.

“So for those of you not familiar, what we’re about to use is called a Spirit Box. It uses radio frequency sweeps to generate white noise, which theories suggest give some entities the energy they need to be heard. When this occurs you will sometimes hear voices or sounds coming through the static in an attempt to communicate. It basically scans radio stations super fast to give the ghost a chance to roast us.”

Your chuckle is quickly cut off by a wince, plugging your ears to drown out the loud shrill given off by the hell box. After a few seconds of garbled syllables and static, you managed to catch what could’ve been either “starry" or “sorry". You decided on the latter.

“Sorry? For what?”

Peter shrugged.

“Maybe it’s sorry about the house?”

You snorted, trying to contain your giggles.

“Man, it should be sorry, this is a fuckin’ mess.”

Peter had the gall to look offended.

“Hey! Be respectful.”

That set off another fit of giggles, followed by a sarcastic tone,

“Oh, now you care about respect? Besides, what’s a pissy ghost gonna do?”

A sudden smirk found its way onto your lips.

“Ooh, maybe it’ll follow you hooome-”

He shoved you lightly, laughing nervously.

“Shut up! That’s not funny!”

You just giggled, vaguely paying attention to the spirit box. You could’ve sworn you heard something akin to, ‘I don’t want to go’, but you couldn’t be too sure.

After another few seconds of unintelligible nonsense, Peter sighed, switching the device off. Trying to hide his disappointed expression, he fixed the camera on his face, a small smile adorning his features. You began to pack up your equipment while he vlogged his outro.

“Alas, dear viewers, it seems that, while paranormal activity does reside in these walls, we weren’t able to catch much of anything tonight. Until next time, where we take a road trip to the Lizzie Borden Murder Hou-”

All of a sudden, a loud bang! followed by several shuffling sounds echoed from somewhere above you, startling the both of you nearly to death. Peter practically dropped the camera, eyes wide in what could’ve either been excitement or fear. Probably a little bit of both.

“What was that?!”

Your first instinct was that someone else had the same idea as you. Or a homeless man was squatting there. Or a wolf was hungry and craved the flesh from your bones. While some more far-fetched than others, none of those options seemed incredibly appealing.

You tugged Peter’s arm, trying to nudge him towards the exit.

“C’mon, Pete, let’s get outta here-"

Just as you said that, the shuffling got louder, swooping past your face and right past a terrified Peter. As the bird settled on an ancient chair, the two of you stayed silent for what felt like ages. Until the dam cracked, and the giggles you were trying to keep back came spilling out from your lips. When the terror had finally subsided, Peter chuckled a bit too, clutching his heart and leaning against the wall.

The giggles didn’t stop. Forgetting yourself, you’d stopped checking your surroundings, completely focused on Peter for most of the night. So, it’d be just your luck that you’d step right onto a spot of water damaged flooring behind you.

Good news? You’d found the source of that dripping noise. Bad news? Your foot went straight through it, sending you crashing down, banging your head on the wooden paneling. You might’ve heard Peter yell out, but your brain was swimming too much to notice, a ringing settling in your ears. You blinked rapidly, trying to clear your foggy senses, only to notice the intense pain shooting up your leg. It was like somebody had taken your ankle and bashed it against a rock a few times. You were almost sure it was broken. You just hoped to god you weren't cut anywhere. The last thing you needed right now was tetanus.

After a few seconds of confused blinking, the rapidly spinning room finally came to a halt; coherent enough to notice your surroundings, Peter came into view, a worried look etched into his expression. His eyes were almost teary as he fussed over you.

Grabbing his hand, you tried your best at smiling, only managing a grimace as your head throbbed. His eyes snapped to yours, squeezing your hand a little too tightly, his free hand checking your head as lightly as he could. When it grazed over the welt right at the top of your forehead, you winced, relieved when he pulled his hand back to cradle your cheek instead.

“Okay, okay okay okay, you’re okay. Can you hear me, sweetheart?”

Blinking a few more times for good measure, you nodded, soothing some of the panic in his eyes. Slowly, as gently as he possibly could, Peter supported your upper back and waist, lifting you to a sitting position, jostling your leg as little as possible. Even then, you let out a slight whimper. The nausea hit you all at once, forcing you to grip Peter’s arm until the room stopped spinning. Although you could barely pay attention to anything but your swimming senses, Peter continued to mumble out loud; whether it was to calm himself or you was unclear.

“God, (Y/N), I’m so sorry, I was stupid to make you come with me, I should’ve just taken you to get some damned coffee like a normal person, now you’re hurt and it’s my fault, Jesus I’m sorry, I’m so sorry-”

“Peter.”

He stopped altogether, eyes wide and terrified. Giving him another, more convincing smile, you sniffled, wiping your face on the sleeve of his jacket that you were still wearing. Taking stock of your leg, you couldn’t see or feel many splinters or cuts, which was a plus. However, your ankle didn’t seem to be faring as well, the throbbing having only worsened as the minutes rolled by. Getting it out of the rotted floor was definitely a priority.

“Alright...okay, Peter. We need to get my leg out, yeah? I’m gonna need your help.”

Peter nodded, visibly swallowing, clenching your hand to the point where it almost hurt. He reached down, careful not to impale himself on the cracked wood, and began to clear as much of the debris as he could. Although the thought of shifting your leg was nauseating, you tried to help as much as you could, knocking splinters away so there was a clear passage you could slip your foot through. 

Taking a deep breath, you squeezed Peter’s arm, cautiously lifting your foot out of the floor. Even that minor jostling sent stabs of pain up your leg, an unintentional cry escaping your lips. Peter tried his best to make the endeavor as painless as possible, supporting your leg and back, moving anything that could bump into the injury. You saw his pained expression at your cry, brows furrowed in worry.

Eventually, you managed to free your ankle, a sigh of relief escaping your chest. You hadn't even noticed you were holding your breath. Once able to shift without feeling like you were going to die, you released Peter’s arm, wincing at the red marks you’d left. He barely seemed to notice, cradling your ankle to assess the damage.

Despite the awful situation, you couldn’t help but notice how beautiful he was. Cheeks flushed, jaw flexing every few seconds, a nervous tick you’d noticed over the past few months. His eyes were trained on you the whole time, a softness to his gaze that sent your heart racing a mile a minute.

Hesitantly, you reached up, tracing his cheekbone with your fingertips. His eyes snapped to yours, the blush you earned filling you with satisfaction. You had no idea where this sudden confidence came from, and you were sure it wouldn’t last. Still, you couldn’t help but make the most of it.

Your voice was barely audible when you whispered,

“You’re so pretty…”

If you thought he’d been red before. Oh boy. Now he was like a tomato, a shy smile stretching his lips before he could stop it. Catching your gaze briefly, Peter chuckled, continuing his examination of your ankle.

“You probably have a concussion. We should get you out of here.”

Giggling, you couldn’t help the fond look you gave him, a dopey grin on your face.

“You’re taking me out? Like, on a date?”

He grinned fully, 50 shades of pink, standing to help you up.

“Alright, you definitely have a concussion. C’mon, let’s go.”

Gripping his hands, you allowed Peter to lift you to your feet, shocked by his strength. Careful not to lean on your bad leg, you hardly noticed when you began to fall, the room suddenly spinning. Peter caught you by the waist, keeping his hold on you until you could focus on anything but keeping your balance. 

The both of you were barely an inch apart, your head the perfect height to lay against his chest. Which is exactly what you did, sighing as your senses began to return to normal. You could just about hear his heartbeat, thumping rapidly against his sternum.

God, you must’ve had a concussion. Or some sort of permanent brain damage. There’s no way you’d be acting like this in your right mind. Peter didn’t seem to mind, though, leaning his chin gently against your hair. It was so calming, you almost forgot about your ankle entirely, letting it droop to the floor absentmindedly.

Immediately on contact, you yelped, clutching Peter’s shirt in a vice grip. He sighed, keeping his arm circled around your waist to support you, becoming your crutch and letting you lean practically all of your weight onto him. Still, he didn’t complain, giving you a reassuring smile.

“Alright, Munchkin, let’s get outta here.”

When you showed up to his apartment, banged up from your adventures, May practically forced you into a cab, taking you to the nearest hospital to be checked up on. You didn’t end up having a concussion, thankfully, just some minor bruises and a sprained ankle, as well as a tetanus shot for good measure. You did, however, get what felt like an eternity of a scolding from Peter’s aunt. Which, to be fair, was incredibly valid. What had possessed the two of you to go to an abandoned ass house, on the night before Halloween, by yourselves, was completely beyond you.

You found it hard to be upset though, laying on Peter’s bed, watching him set up a pillow and blanket on his floor. It was far too late to go home, so you’d convinced May to let you stay for the night. You sighed again, pouting at Peter.

“You really don’t have to sleep on the floor, Dimples. It’s your bed, I can take the couc-"

He paused his activities, a tired smile on his face.

“Are you kidding? You think my injured friend is gonna sleep on the couch? We found that thing on the curb, you’d end up with god knows what.”  

He wandered over, fussing for the millionth time with your pillows and blankets, making sure you were comfortable. You rolled your eyes, groaning.

“You’re acting like I’m on my deathbed. A little fall isn’t gonna kill me, Pete.”

He just chuckled, and, after a few seconds hesitation, brushed some of your hair behind your ear.

“I know, I know. Just...let me take care of you, ‘kay?”

A heavy blush settled on your cheeks, rendered speechless by his sudden shift in demeanor. Wordlessly, you nodded, biting your lip to keep the smile off your face. His eyes caught the movement, focusing on your mouth for a few seconds before falling to his hands. Slowly, almost cautiously, he sat at the edge of the mattress, brows furrowing. As if he was thinking about what to say next.

“Listen…(Y/N)... I wanted to tell you something. And I’m not...well, I’m not exactly sure how to say it, but I feel like this is a good time, because realistically, I know you’ll be fine, but if you’d really gotten hurt in there, I don’t know what I would’ve done, I just-"

He cut himself off, keeping his gaze locked firmly in his lap. Finally, he seemed to focus, taking a deep breath before continuing.

“I asked you to come with me on my stupid ghost hunting trip because, well, you’re just-”

Another deep breath.

“You’re kinda, sorta, basically always on my mind. And I wanted to hang out- well not ‘hang out’ but, I wanted to, y’know, ask you out, but I couldn’t find the words, and now you’re hurt and I-"

He kept rambling, but you barely heard it, too focused in on his confession to notice anything else.

Peter likes you.

Jesus, everything made so much sense now! How shy he was, how timid he’d been asking you to go with him. He wasn’t just asking to hang out. He was asking you on a date. Butterflies filled your stomach, a warm feeling settling in your chest. You couldn’t keep the grin from your lips if you tried. Peter likes you. Peter likes you.

Noticing your expression, he finally stopped ranting, an almost terrified look in his eyes. Clearing your throat slightly, you averted your gaze, mumbling softly.

“I, uh, I like you too Peter.”

His expression was almost comical. Eyes wide, mouth slightly ajar.

“W-what?”

You giggled, an affectionate grin on your face.

“I said, I like you too, you doofus.”

He visibly relaxed, features softening into a sweet smile.

“Oh.”

You both sat there, the silence of his bedroom settling over you like a blanket. You must’ve looked like idiots, sitting amongst his Star Wars sheets with lovestruck expressions, glancing at each other from the corner of your eyes. After a few seconds, he cleared his throat, blush never fading.

“So, um...do you, I mean, there’s a movie next week, would you maybe, uh, I dunno, um-"

“I’d love to, Peter.”

His smile widened even more, brown eyes sparkling as he nodded.

“Okay. Okay, good. So, uh...we should probably get some sleep.”

Peter moved to stand up, but stopped himself. After a few seconds of hesitation, he leaned over, gently pressing his lips to your bruised forehead. As he pulled away, you gripped his wrist, eyes fluttering shut to savour the moment. You were here. This was real. You felt his light breaths across your face, nose practically brushing yours. A breathy giggle escaped your lips, opening your eyes to see Peter already staring at you. You could see every small detail in gaze, golden flakes scattered in their chocolate depths. You kept your voice hushed, scared to shatter the moment between the two of you.

“Can you lay by me? Just until I fall asleep?”

His smile could rival the sun in its brilliance. A thrill went through you as he nuzzled his nose against yours.

“Alright.”

Careful not to touch your ankle, Peter climbed beneath the covers, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. Your head rested against his chest, steady heartbeat a little too quick to be casual. You smirked.

“You nervous, Parker?”

He chuckled, squeezing you in a hug.

“Shut up, Munchkin.”

God, you didn’t think you’d ever stop smiling. Closing your eyes, you breathed out a sigh of content. A year ago today, you never would’ve imagined you’d be here. A new school, ghost hunting blog, and sprained ankle later, and here you were, cuddling with the guy of your dreams.

Things were finally looking up.

Tagging: @captain-ariel-barnes @papi-chulo-bucky @after-avenging-hours @occasionalfics @aliciawentzshadows @writing-parker 

Sorry if you didn’t wanna be tagged in this, lol, I just tagged anyone who I thought might like Peter fluff XP 

[alternativewinxcontinuity]

Things I should have been doing for the past three months: Season three of Winx Alt Con

Things I have been doing over the last three months: Not that

Things I realised today:

Of the first 10,000+ words that make up the third season of Winx Alt Con (working title for AO3 when I get it up 'Fragment of Flame'), 9,000 words belong exclusively to week 21, the majority of which covers events from a less than 24 hour period. (in universe. four planets and four time zones, I make things easy on myself where I can but damn. week 22 starts of with things that 'technically this may have happened yesterday and thus last week but 9,000 words is already excessive for a tumblr post, and thank goodness I didn't write this out long hand and kept it to the stylised summary format'.)

So to make myself feel better: It's time for a whine!!

Season 7 did Brandon so dirty.

Specifically I would like to whine about that scene from 716 'Back to Paradise Bay.'

The episode starts off looking like your classic Beach Filler Episode, everyone's hanging out, having a good time, just relaxing like the fate of the Universe isn't once more in peril.

Meanwhile, Brandon has decided to take a walk in the jungle, just chillin', when suddenly he spots a small spread of really pretty flowers. Natural he's all 'I'mma pick some for my bae, because Stella loves pretty stuff, and she deserves nice things,' because Brandon is a good boyfriend.

Only, all of a sudden, an adorable deer appears and wrecks Brandon so hard. Seriously, the level of wrecked is just embarrassing.

But Brandon won't quit, he will get those flowers for Stella.

Which is where I went: what the fudge crackle and pop? (yeah, I swear weird) Hold the phone? Is Brandon Possessed?! What is HApPeNIng!?!?!

Because I just couldn't process the idea that Brandon, (genuinely/generally decent person, friend to both Fairy of (plant based) Nature and the Fairy of Animals, who was there for the season that was created because the folks in charge were inspired by an eco-disaster, and is not stupid) would ignore an animal doing its damnedest to stop him from picking some flowers with out so much as a 'why won't it let me past? Is it protecting the flowers? Or is it trying to protect me from the flowers?'

The fact that Brandon goes from 'this might be a nice thing to do for a person I love' to 'I will defeat this small animal' is bizarre, and goes against everything we know about him.

It was such a jarring shift of personality, that I couldn't believe he wasn't under the influence of something.

I get that it was relevant to the 'plot', but this was just so out of character for him, that it felt wrong in a way very few moments in the show actually do.

Because of the nature of the show, (a set demographic despite being a long running serial,) progress is often reset, and prior events are rarely mentioned (which is why season seven's flashbacks were so unusual, and why whenever Riven and Musa began growing as a couple they'd find themselves back at the start, and Riven could never really drop his asshole personality even though we all know he had the potential to take his head out of his arse,) because every season needs to be accessible to new comers, they need to feel like they can start at any season and not be missing out on huge chunks of lore or character arcs.

But this?! This felt like a completely different character, and not a member of team good guys either. This wasn't just awkward shoe-horning or mildly aggravating retconning or Diaspro's post season three flanderisation (or Stella's in recent seasons), this was a complete one-scene-only personality transplant, and I hated every frame of it.

There's no real break down of the scene here, I just wanted to mention how much this scene sucked. Seriously, the idea that these flowers maintained a magical balance of an island that until recently was cut off from magic is just...

and on a planet where people are known and have been shown to actively damage the environment?

On a list of one to ten of 'stupidest reasons to visit a place or do a thing' this one is looking at first-goshdarn-place.

Thank you for coming to my whining time.

[cooperandjonesinc]

No Lyrics, Just Words

A secret santa gift for @no-denying-shes-a-funny-girl as part of the Bughead Secret Santa gift exchange!

Rating: G

Words: 2478

Summary: Even though they’re both writers, Betty and Jughead were never any good at communicating. That’s why long before there was an exchange of kisses, there was an exchange of music.

(A fluffy New Years fic with way too many song references.)

It starts just before Betty leaves for her summer internship. She starts a group chat with Jughead and Archie, Jughead isn’t sure why he qualifies or why she thinks he cares, but he finds himself scrolling through anyway, hating every minute. The first song she ever sends him is actually to both of the boys. It’s Despacito. Later he will be grateful that at least she sent the original all Spanish version rather than the Beiber remix.

The issue is that he kind of likes it. It’s got a good beat, it’s sexy. He can imagine Betty dancing around her room mumbling along to the words she doesn’t understand. In his mind’s eye she dances in short shorts and a tank top that rides up exposing a hint of skin at her belly. That’s where he cuts the thought off. The day she arrives at her internship he sends her Welcome to Paradise by Greenday. Someone has to expose her to good music. A month later, after he’s heard the song dozens of times, he feels differently about that Latin beat.

During the months they are apart they talk very little. Even Archie barely hears from her, but he begins to fade away into his music too. She sends Jughead some songs that indulge his taste in music. Say It Ain’t So by Weezer floats through the trailer for a solid week after she reminds him that it exists. He retaliates with Here by Alessia Cara after Archie drags him to one summer bonfire thrown by the evil redheaded twins. It’s nice. It makes him feel connected to her even though no words are exchanged. He means to continue the tradition through the year, but Jason Blossom’s body washes ashore and suddenly there’s no time to worry about things like that anymore.

Betty misses the music as they run around town unraveling the mysteries of the bloody murder and cover up. When he cups her face in his hands and forever changes how she sees him she realizes that something started between them long before. She’d just been too blinded by a shock of red hair to notice. After the baby shower among their text messages she slips in a link to Paramore’s The Only Exception. She expects to receive back something sentimental. Instead he sends her Creep. As a jest she throws a boyband song back his way. The next time they meet he laughs at her, but she has trouble returning it. Part of her knows he means it, that he believes in those lyrics. When she finally admits to the crescent scars on her hands they share a set of headphones listening to The Monster with Eminem and Rihanna sharing space with their thoughts.

FP’s arrest, finding the tape, Cliff’s death, Cheryl’s suicide attempt, Fred’s shooting. All of it happens in 72 hours. The Sound of Silence echoes heavy in their consciousness.

When Jughead moves to Southside High the music stops again. For the first few days Betty hopes it’s for the same reason they stopped before. Their relationship was strong, they didn’t need to exchange songs when everything they needed to say they just shared with each other. But it’s not like that at all. It’s a scarce few miles between the two sides, but it may as well have been continents. The Black Hood complicates things even further. They break up without a single note left hanging in the air. When she comes to her senses and finally spills every secret she’s been holding in they get back together in a whirl of hushed whispers and hurried kisses. Unable to part from him she spends her nights in his bed.

The first song he ever sends her after joining the Serpents is Lydia by Highly Suspect. It isn’t just a spotify link to the song either. He sends her a link to the video. It starts with a shot of a girl underwater. The camera never leaves her. Two minutes in and she’s still submerged, tied down. There are no breaks, no cut aways. Betty is simply watching this girl drown. When her vision swims and her world starts to tilt Betty realizes that in sympathy she’s been holding her own breath. Her lungs fill with fire as she heaves air in. Suddenly she’s hyperventilating, she’s panicking. She can’t breathe. Jughead can’t breathe. He’s drowning with the Serpents, in over his head with no where to go. The song ends. The girl is still in the water, and Betty knows what she has to do. She has to dive into the pool with the Serpents to help Jughead get out.

For some reason it never even occurs to her that instead of setting Jughead free, she’d just get tangled into the same mess. The music stops.

It also never crossed her mind that she might just end up being actual friends with Toni. It starts with Toni pulling her aside after the disastrous dance.

“Mad respect for pulling it out like that, but you know dancing isn’t the only step to becoming a Serpent, right?”

No, she didn’t know. Jughead told her a little bit about his initiation, but not enough.

She knows, of course, that it’s a gang. She knows she’s entering into a world of blackmail, drugs, and other nefarious activities. But it doesn’t feel like that. It feels like being welcomed into a family. The Whyte Wyrm is an amalgam of bad Thanksgiving cliches. Yeah, your drunk racist aunt is chain smoking in the corner, but the rest of the group are people who get you in a way no one else will. The Coopers never felt right to Betty. Apparently she’d just been spending time with the wrong half of her DNA. Maybe she always belonged with the snakes. Well, most of them anyway.

Word travels fast about the Snake Charmer. The ruthless vicious part of Betty that nearly drowned Chuck is gloriously pleased at the vengeance. Her conscience quickly admonishes itself for thinking such things. No one deserves to have swaths of flesh cut off their arm. Then her rationale cuts in. This woman is not someone to be trifled with. She’d be looking for retribution of her own.

It’s Toni’s job to hide the streaming camera that catches Penny typing in her password. When Betty breaks into the office that night she hums Secret by the Pierces to herself. Because two can keep a secret if one of them is dead.

Predictably Tall Boy is the one Penny calls to her defense. “They cornered me!” She screeches to the crowd in the Wyrm. “They cut the snake right off my skin! Is that what Serpents do to each other?”

She’s chosen a day when Jughead is at school, obviously trying to start a revolt, “This can not stand!”

“Here Here! We’ve had nothing but trouble coming down on our heads since F.P’s boy got it in his head to try and take over.” Tall Boy adds to the growing restlessness.

“Hey Penny,” Betty shouts over the din, “Remind me why the kids jumped you.”

She sneered, “Because they weren’t willing to paid an agreed upon price. Is that what we want the next generation to be, welshers?” The crowd roared their approval.

“So you weren’t blackmailing them?” Toni stood tall at her side. They made a formidable team.

“I do what it takes to get the job done. Hey, I didn’t want to, but the Jones’ haven’t been trustworthy.”

“Not trustworthy?” Betty shook her head, “I think going to jail without a word was pretty high up. Tell me, Tall Boy, what have you done that made you not worthy of Ms. Peabody’s trust?”

“The hell you mean?” Tall Boy asked.

“Well,” Betty pulled out a few photos she’d taken upon herself to download. “She has several photos of you. Tell me, how long is the statute of limitations on aggravated assault? Because however long it is, that’s how long she owns you.”

As he flipped through the photos Tall Boy’s face grew redder.

“Now, I can explain that.” Penny pleaded

“Can you explain all of them? Because I think there’s something in here on every single person in this bar right now. Is this your way of never betraying your own? Is this how you make sure a Serpent never stands alone?”

Betty doesn’t have to say another word. The crowd took it away from her. Penny was forced to flee out the back. In all the commotion somehow Betty ends up with a jacket with a Serpent patch.

“Damn, B, you’re kind of ruthless.” Toni remarks.

“Dark. Most people call it dark.”

It feels like home.

++++++++++++

The snow falling on New Year’s eve is that glittering snow that falls in huge wet flakes. It’s snowman weather since it all clings together on mittens and eyelashes. In the house behind Betty a New Year’s bash rages. Reggie volunteered to host, followed swiftly by Cheryl commandeering the role since Reggie was apparently useless at planning anything. It was a great party, or at least everyone else seemed to think so since Betty was the only person avoiding it by sitting in the snow. Loud bass reverberated against the windows making them shudder. It was only a matter of time before the Sheriff would get called.

“Hey, Betts.” Jughead’s voice was soft in the twilight.

“Are you coming out here to smoke? Seems to be the only reason people step outside.” She shivered. Her dress barely went to her knees, so even with her cloak covering her upper half she was freezing.

Jughead smirked, “I thought you knew me better than that, Ms. Cooper. Nah, I think I’m just going to go. There’s nothing here for me.”

“Me too. I think I’ll head out soon.”

“What you’re not here to find romance?” He said. He tried to come off joking, but the bitterness clung.

“Nope. I kissed someone just for saying, ‘I need you Betty Cooper’ not too long ago. I think my judgment is compromised. If only the kiss had felt as good as hearing the words.”

Jughead stepped down next to her, his heavy boots thumped on the wooden steps. “Didn’t turn out well?” he asked as he sat next to her.

“I’m pretty sure I gave him a look that can only be classified as, ‘Horrified’, so yeah, I’d say not good is putting it mildly.”

They chuckled, “Can I ask who the lucky guy was or would that be weird?”

“Not weird.” She swallowed, “Archie. During the four seconds he was broken up with Ronnie.”

Quietly Jughead said, “You finally snagged the football star and didn’t like it?”

“No. He tasted like old dreams and disappointment. I don’t know what I was expecting, but not that. Actually, I do know what I was expecting. I was expecting it to be like it was with you. A revelation.”

“A revelation, huh?” He sounded rather smug, “Speaking of, I hear you finished the job I started on the Snake Charmer. You shouldn’t have done that, Betty. You’re in her crosshairs now.”

Betty groaned, “Can we not? I think something’s too dangerous for you, so I leave you behind. You think something is too dangerous for me and leave me behind. I’m going to do stupid things without you, the darkness is there even when you’re not. Let’s quit thinking we know what’s best for each other. It’s getting exhausting.”

“Yeah, I guess. But that seems to be all we can say to each other. If we’re not going to talk, what do you suggest we do?”

Just then the first few strands of Despacito floated through the walls. Betty giggled as she pulled Jughead to his feet. He reluctantly allowed her to move him into some semblance of a dance that ended with them giggling furiously in each other’s arms.

“Betty, can I tell you a secret?” He pulled her in close so that his breath was on her neck.

“Anything.” She whispered back, basking in his heat.

“I really, really, hate this God damned song.”

Betty was over come with another wave of giggles. “How is that a secret?”

“Most people who say they hate it secretly like it. Hell, I used to be one of them. Now I just plain hate it, but I listen to it all the time.”

“Why listen to a song you hate?”

“Because it was the first song you ever sent me.” He said with a shrug. “Did you know that despite it being the song of the summer it was actually released January 7th? So, happy song-versary I guess.”

She ran a finger down his cheek, “You too, Jughead. I wish we had made it as far.”

He tilted his head down, hers went up. Their mouths inched closer together.

Jughead pulled abruptly back, “No wait. This is stupid. We can’t do this again.”

“Why is it stupid? I mean it Jug, tell me why we shouldn’t keep fighting for each other.”

“Because you know what people say about repetition and insanity. Nothing’s different. We’ll just loop around again, breaking each other’s hearts in the process.”

“Then let’s break the circle. Let’s do something different this time.” Betty said.

“What?”

She took his hands in hers, “No more songs. I’m not saying we shouldn’t also send each other music, I’m just saying that we have to actually talk to each other. You have to stop believing that you’re protecting me from situations by jumping off a cliff and laving me stranded in a field. Just give me the option of taking your hand and leaping with you. Half the time I’m doing the same thing from the other side of the ledge anyway. We’ve said no more secrets before, but broke it so quickly. I’m never going to be that golden girl I was before I left for the internship. I know who I am now. This time, let’s mean it. Let’s go down swinging together.”

Through the windows came the sounds of the countdown to midnight.

“What do you say, Juggie? New Year’s resolution?”

6… 5… 4…

He kissed her hand, then let go so he could cup her cheek, “This year we leap together. No more lyrics, just words.”

3… 2… 1…

He leaned in and kissed her. Yeah, it was going to be a great year.

[deadcactuswalking]

REVIEWING THE CHARTS: 24/10/2020 (Digga D, Justin Bieber, benny blanco)

Internet Money’s “Lemonade” featuring Don Toliver, NAV and Gunna finally hit #1 on the UK Singles Chart, and that’s today’s #1. Anyone else find it funny that NAV has a #1 hit in, well, any country? Anyway, welcome to REVIEWING THE CHARTS.

Dropouts & Returning Entries

A lot of our new arrivals from yesterday are gone entirely, including “Parlez-Vous Anglais” by Headie One featuring Aitch, mostly because only the three highest-performing songs from an artist can be in the chart at one time, so “Only You Freestyle” with Drake returned at #44. As well as that, other notable drop-outs from the UK Top 75 are “Mr. Right Now” by 21 Savage and Metro Boomin featuring Drake, “5AM” by M Huncho and Nafe Smallz exiting pretty prematurely, “Over Now” by Calvin Harris and the Weeknd, “Wishing Well” by the late Juice WRLD lasting longer than I expected, and “Heaven on My Mind” by Becky Hill and Segala. The biggest fall for the week is “Laugh Now Cry Later” by Drake and Lil Durk getting hit with the streaming cut down from #18 and #42 and the biggest is for last week’s debut “i miss u” by Jax Jones and Au/Ra up from #53 to #39. The only other returning entry we have is that garbage “Papi Chulo” song by Octavian and Skepta back for seemingly no reason. That doesn’t mean we don’t have 11 new arrivals, though, so let’s get started.

NEW ARRIVALS

#69 – “Train Wreck” – James Arthur

Produced by Adam Argyle

X Factor winner and insecure homophone who somehow pissed Frankie Boyle off on Twitter in 2012 James Arthur is back with his latest single since his first comeback album which was surprisingly successful, even stateside, mostly because of soppy, unlistenable ballad “Say You Won’t Let Go”. So, what’s to be expected out of this frog-voiced adult contemporary lad today? Well, apparently this is actually not his latest single choice for that lead off of the fourth album and rather just a deep cut from his 2016 album Back from the Edge. It’s the sixth track on the album, it’s four years old and never had a single push so I can only assume... TikTok? I don’t know, I think everyone’s feeling like this year’s been a bit of a train wreck so is the song good? I don’t know, I think his belting is impressive but pretty aggravating with only the soft piano backing and it does sound like he’s straining himself a bit here. The pouring out of his emotions during the dark place he was in between 2013 and 2016 is pretty effective and admittedly I feel kind of bad for the guy but, man, you can tell this is the first song he wrote for the album as it feels pretty underwritten, with a lot of reliance on that chorus, which is powerful but not nearly enough as he wants it to be. He explores a religious angle in the first verse that goes absolutely nowhere. Looking at the comments on the Genius page and ignoring the ones saying “This is epic” or “Anyone here from Harry Potter TikToks?”, I can tell it’s helping people and if this really is impactful to his audience then all fairness to him, it does its job. I’m just not a fan.

#68 – “Heat Waves” – Glass Animals

Produced by Dave Bayley

I swear “trainwreck” and “heatwave” are usually one word. Huh. Glass Animals are an indie-pop project fronted by Dave Bayley and I’ve never felt the need to look into them, and whilst I always assumed they were big – especially this recent third album which did big numbers to mixed reception – I didn’t think they were “chart in the top 100” big, especially not too months after the album release when another single is clearly being pushed. It has got a couple remixes though, particularly a Diplo one, so I guess this is a good time to first check Bayley and co out. Maybe my definition of “psychedelic pop” is different to Pitchfork’s (who didn’t even like this album) but I didn’t expect pitch-shifted vocals put against trap instrumentals and 808s that drown out all of the musicality that goes into the watery synths and guitar picking under the pretty rough vocals here, saved by some cool melodic ideas and multi-tracking that sounds pretty good in the verses. That chorus is lazy and quickly loses its lustre though, and it is not nearly climactic enough for that point in the bridge where its cuts out and returns to work or have any impact at all. The lyrics are pretty fluffy and non-descript, apart from the refrain of “Road shimmer wigglin’ the vision”... okay, I understand why you pitch-shifted that one. Yeah, this is pretty garbage, as are these remixes, although admittedly I kind of enjoy Diplo’s future bass rendition. You can’t do much to make a badly-written song sound interesting as an EDM remixer. I listened to that “Space Ghost Coast to Coast” song out of curiosity and... just because your “ayys” sound more like “ehs” doesn’t mean your trap-rap is suddenly art pop. Also:

“Space Ghost Coast To Coast” combines bits and pieces of millennial childhood nostalgia with musings on school shootings.

Joy. Next.

#67 – “PMW” – M Huncho and Nafe Smallz

Produced by Quincy Tellem

The drill MF DOOM (in aesthetic, not ability) and some nasal-voiced idiot who is not selling himself well with that stage name make a collaborative album produced by Soulja Boy Tell ‘Em. Here’s their ode to Profit Margins and Wages. Okay, it’s just them trading bars over an actually pretty damn good trap beat, with a killer choral vocal sample and some skittering hi-hats with a high enough pace that it makes Nafe Smallz seem mildly engaged. M Huncho sounds fine here, but the chorus here is pretty rough for both of them, and it just sounds really awkward. I do like Nafe’s second verse here, the flows he uses are pretty catchy and he sounds alive for once. What do you expect me to say about this though? They don’t rap anything interesting, the trap beat is good but not particularly interesting and the performances are mildly entertaining at best. It’s not nearly as amusing as the last single I liked from Huncho, “Pee Pee”. I’m not surprised this didn’t debut very high, and I guess it’ll drop off next week like nothing ever happened.

#65 – “One More Time” – Not3s featuring AJ Tracey

Produced by Eyes Adoasi and Remedee

Well, this duo have worked together a bunch of times before, and are undeniably preferable to M Huncho and Nafe Smallz, even if I’m not necessarily a big fan of either artist. This seems to be a lead-off single for Not3s’ third record as well as an interpolation of Britney Spears’ “...Baby One More Time” with a pretty cute pitch-shifted female vocal acting as the main melody for the track... and, yeah, this is what I expect from AJ Tracey. There’s an obvious UK garage flavour to the track – it does feel like a modernised throwback – and AJ’s spitting pretty competently, even if his flow is pretty basic and at times janky. Not3s is even more janky in the pre-chorus but the harmonising on the chorus and flow on the second verse is pretty damn impressive and dare I say charming. If he wants to go into this smooth R&B-rap direction on this type of UK garage beat I approve fully and I would be excited for that upcoming album. It kind of reminds me of Jeremih, to be completely honest, and I’m not sure exactly where I get that comparison but he sounds great. The beat does feel like it stagnates, especially during AJ’s verse actually – it might be the weak link stopping this from becoming great – but it doesn’t overstay its welcome and the 8-bit sound effects during AJ’s verse do stop this from being boring, though I still prefer a fair few of AJ’s other singles, like “Kiss and Tell” with Skepta which the song immediately reminded me of. It could have actually done with no guest verse but I know Not3s needs that promo so I’m not complaining about this. I hope to see it in the top 40 soon.

#62 – “Perkosex” – D-Block Europe

Produced by Gwiz and Roki

“Perkosex”. Wow, and I thought these guys couldn’t get dumber. We have a third DBE album cut this week and I’m already impressed by the awful pun in the title and the fact that this is literally taken from a YouTube producer’s (FREE) Calboy/Polo G type beat. Classy. This is a more downbeat song for the duo, with two verses, kind of. In fact, there’s no chorus, just one verse from Dirtbike LB who actually starts off the song with some spoken word and pathetic “Ski” ad-libs – leave that to Young Adz, who fragments his verse with a pointless and awkward bridge, as if his verse didn’t fill up that quota anyway. We have an acoustic guitar, pitched-up vocal sample that comes in to waste time every so often, and actually cuts Adz’s verse in two. Both LB and Adz croon and mumble, barely staying on the beat, with Adz mumbling so much on his first part of the verse that I initially thought this was just an outro to a song that lasted one and a half minutes, but, no, there’s an extra minute to go and Adz adz nothing to the track that needed that second half of the verse. Neither of the rappers are any funny here, but at least LB compares his friends to terrorists and says he’s got shots in his mouth like a peppermint... I mean, he sounds more mentally stable than he usually does on these songs, I guess. The second half of that Adz verse starts off with either him barely staying on-topic or just a complete plot twist.

You signed up for a drug dealer, not a drug user

And the next line:

And one of my toxic traits is that I love too much

Again, classy. This is crap even by their standards and just straight boring. It won’t go anywhere, but knowing my luck it might be the Christmas #1. Next.

#60 – “Someone to You” – BANNERS

Produced by KOZ

More “indie pop” debuting on the charts, although this one is directly off of the success of Love, Victor, a Hulu original series based on the film Love, SImon that used it in its soundtrack and hence it’s here on the chart. This song has been on three of this guy’s EPs and is actually all the way back from 2017 so, yeah, we have some old cuts here. I have absolutely nothing to say about the song though. Sure, I appreciate the vocal harmonies in the post-chorus and the organic drumming but the vaguely folkish guitar sounds pretty trite, as do the hand-claps and the incredibly generic mish-mash of love song clichés in all of the lyrics here. I’m reminded of a lighter Biffy Clyro that happens to be from Liverpool instead of Scotland and, you know, have no grit or interesting songwriting to back the enthusiastic vocal delivery and repetitive, exhausting chorus. I’m not into this at all, it just reeks of a lack of effort or unique character to it. And I’m safe to assume that about this next song...

#59 – “You’re Mines Still” – Yung Bleu

Produced by Nate Rhoads

This song got big because of Drake on the remix and thank God for that because this Juice WRLD rip-off could never stand on his two feet anyway. The fake attempt at a half-hearted British accent drenched in Auto-Tune is an immediate turn-off – the dude’s from Alabama and sounds like he’s vaguely imitating an Afroswing singer – but so is this incredibly low-effort trap beat with barely anything other than a Sting sample from the exact song “Lucid Dreams” sampled, and it’s not like this is an uncommon flip, coincidence or even a sample that hasn’t been used in a bunch of rap tracks before. Watch out, Yung Bleu, or else Sting will try and sue your ass on BS counts of “plagiarism” until you tragically die young or get a Drake stimulus package big enough for you to pay off royalties and fines for copyright infringement. In fact, I’m convinced that’s the only reason Drake hopped onto the remix so he and his massive bank account can settle the incoming lawsuit and pay the legal fees for this guy, because he doesn’t contribute anything worthwhile to this trash either. Jesus, this is bad.

#58 – “Happiness” – Little Mix

Produced by TMS

We don’t have that album yet, but we have another low-charting promotional single, I guess, now that the last one dropped off from the chart entirely... last week. Little Mix are now noticing that maybe they really cannot perform that well without Syco so I guess they’re just throwing as many bricks as D-Block Europe claim to be selling and hoping one of them fits into the wall. I don’t mind the song for all it’s worth, to be honest, I mean it’s more of a fast-paced dance-pop song about love I can appreciate with some pretty great vocal performances from the girls here, especially who I think are Leigh-Anne and Jade. The chorus hits pretty hard and the fusion of 808s and trap skitters on the verses with a killer UK garage-inspired drum loop on the chorus... yeah, I can actually endorse this, albeit with some hesitation, especially since the bridge is literally just like 10 seconds of vocal riffing, which makes the song feel somewhat underwritten even if that final chorus, especially the lead-up to it, is pretty amazing and genuinely surprised me on my first listen. This is good, and honestly a lot better than I expected from Little Mix, so check it out if you’re interested, although sadly I doubt this’ll stick.  

#29 – “Hold” – Chunkz and Yung Filly

Produced by Ransom Beatz

I can say the same about this, now that we’re in the top 40 here (first for both artists), mostly because Chunkz is pretty much a YouTube comedian and looking at these lyrics, there are now jokes. There is some ugly Auto-Tuned crooning over a pretty flat Afroswing beat and Chunkz’s delivery is similarly flat and it’s obvious he’s a comedian. You can just tell when rappers are also comedians and this guy definitely makes that obvious in his half-hearted “upbeat” delivery that sounds like a satire, but the problem is again that there are NO JOKES. Is the “airplane mode” line a joke? The use of the word “investments”? The egregious Spanish in the second verse? This weak-sauce instrumental? If any of these are jokes or an attempt at comedy, please let me stand corrected because I don’t know if Chunkz was chuckling to himself writing but none of this is funny or even entertaining. It’s pretty telling that the Genius page gave up on trying to distinguish the two rappers as well. Next.

#19 – “Lonely” – Justin Bieber and benny blanco

Produced by benny blanco and FINNEAS

Why is benny blanco credited as a lead artist while FINNEAS isn’t? Huh. Well, Justin’s back and leaving whatever the hell Changes was earlier this year right behind him, focusing on more introspective and personal tracks like... “Holy”, I guess. Well, for what it’s worth, this is better than “Holy” by quite a bit. It’s a pretty minimal ballad with some nice work on the keys from benny and egregious profanity from Bieber in the chorus. I do like the content though, and how he delves into Bieber’s regrets in his past, especially in the second verse although I feel like he misses the point here or at least doesn’t go in-depth enough for me to fully comprehend his view on the situation. They criticised things you did as an idiot kid because they were insensitive, immoral and at some times illegal, not because you were a child. Sure, the media and the press can be antagonistic, especially to easy targets – hell, it’s worse here than in the US or Canada – but it’s not entirely clear in the short verse here that he’s not just deflecting blame onto the “haters”. I do like how he talks about the downs that come with having so much wealth and fame at a young age and no idea on what to do with it other than reckless leisure activities and raking in the fandom’s love whilst he continues to drink-drive and lose his pet monkey, which he shouldn’t have had in the first place. He also talks about how the paparazzi and Internet comment trolls viewed his pictures of him with Lyme disease and immediately assumed he was doing drugs, which can be similarly said for Chadwick Boseman, who died earlier this year due to complications related to colon cancer at age 43. Yeah, this one digs pretty deep but I still feel like it could have used a third verse, especially since while Bieber claims to cite his wife Hailey Baldwin as his “saviour” this is his third or fourth time painting himself as the “comeback” of Bieber but now a more mature man, and none of those attempts have really succeeded so this seems kind of desperate on his behalf. Sigh, the song’s fine and honestly I appreciate it for what it tries to do but it falls short here and lacks the real dagger in the heart moment personally revealing songs about fame like this should have, although I’d admit it gets close. Now for our final entry, which has considerably less to talk about...

#18 – “Chingy (It’s Whatever)” – Digga D

Produced by ItchyDaProducer

Chingy? As in “Right Thurr”, “Holidae Inn” Chingy? Huh. From one look at the chorus, it just seems to be another threat but hey, Digga D’s back. I’m not sure if anyone wanted him back but here he is. He released an album last year. This wasn’t on it. I can’t actually remember this guy at all; I assumed this was DigDat so I expected some quality – I mean, no drill lyric can beat “white like Peter, brown like Cleveland” – but no, it’s Digga D, who made a song with Russ Splash last year that got in the top 40. I remember reviewing it, I remember not thinking much of it at the time. I don’t think much of this one either although I do have to admit I really like that eerie vocal sample, even if it is completely drowned out by the drill beat and the inconsistently-censored sliding on the beat from Digga D. He uses a pretty standard drill flow here though, and the verses are little more than oddly specific gunplay and flexing. He does actually interpolate “Right Thurr” by Chingy in this pretty good and catchy chorus – which I imagine is the only reason this is in the top 20 – as well as in the second verse, where he interpolates his other biggest song which already interpolated a Vine. Sure, I guess.

Conclusion

Not as good of a week as the last, although there’s still a LOT of British hip hop here, mostly sectioned between some indie-pop clunkers. In fact, I’m going to give Glass Animals the Dishonourable Mention for “Heat Waves” while Worst of the Week goes to “You’re Mines Still” by Yung Bleu and Drake on the remix for just being a horrible song all around. Best of the Week surprises me but it’s going to Little Mix for “Happiness” because, well, at least it has some damn energy to it unlike the rest of these songs. I guess the Honourable Mention can go to “One More Time” by Not3s and AJ Tracey but even that would be stretching it. Let’s hope for some good stuff next time, maybe some of that new Gorillaz album... pretty please? Here’s the top 10 for this week:

Big gains for “What You Know Bout Love” there, which is interesting. Follow me on @cactusinthebank for Tory scum baiting and I’ll see you next week.

[darkmoonhye]

stalker!hyejoo part 1

(originally sent anonymously to candychoerryluv on curiouscat under the alias of cowboy emoji. will likely be edited, rewritten, and republished at some point)

i think of lipsoulves all hitting the town with increasing frequency. at first, it was only on occasion (maybe once a month at most) and it was all the unnies, but eventually those three took a particular liking to club and bar-hopping, heading out multiple times a week... initially, hyejoo was just mildly curious about what exactly they got up to on their own, but no one would answer her questions. she even tried hinting about wanting to go with them one time, but yves had pretty much laughed her off ('you're like a baby, hyejoo') while jinsol cooed over how sweet it was that she wanted to tag along (jinsol's nickname for hyejoo ever since then has been 'duckling'). lip didn't say much about the entire thing, had just gotten a bit impatient with the older two since she wanted to get out to do -- whatever it was they did.

the entire encounter had strongly irritated hye, and it took her a while before she managed to get over it. or so she thought, until one night, lipsoulves set out on their regular friday outing alongside yerim, of all people. it was one thing on the rare instances that they were joined by heejin, hyunjin, or even gowon (which had only happened once, and hyejoo hadn't spoken to her for a week when even she had given cryptic answers about what they got up to), but yerim was just barely older than her! if her unnies thought she was too young, surely a couple short months shouldn't have made a difference...? but evidently, to them, it did, and hyejoo just couldn't accept that.

that night had been the start of hyejoo's stalking habit. at that point, she was afraid of getting caught following them, more than anything, so she kept far back, didn't even dare trying to get into the clubs they entered. just sat across the street, ignoring the inebriated idiots who would harass her every so often, and waited for them to emerge again. when they did, the unnies looked mostly the same as they typically did when hyejoo would see them getting home in the early morning hours. jinsol was maybe a little more inebriated than usual, yves a little more smug-looking, and lip was quiet in the way that she only was after their nights out.

yerim was the only one who gave hye the barest hint of what could've went down. even from afar, hyejoo could tell she was a mess - hair dishevelled, face flushed, and clothes rumbled (when she snuck in to check the laundry a few hours later, she found her confirmation through yerim's skirt, strangely stained, and a pair of her torn and equally stained underwear in the trash). she was lacking the details and context, but yerim's appearance was enough to give hyejoo a solid idea of what exactly the unnies went out to do. yves had an arm slung around yerim, half-guiding her into the backseat of a hailed cab, before she and jinsol climbed in after her. hyejoo assumed that lip would take shotgun, but strangely, she instead stayed exactly where she was and saw the other three off. hyejoo's curiousity emerged once more when lip headed right back into the club, but she pushed down the feeling - it was more important that she got home before the other unnies realized she was missing, lest her new favourite game meet a premature end.

after that night, hye follows her unnies almost every time they go out (one more returning to the normalcy of just lipvesoul), becoming more daring every time she does, quickly mustering up the nerve to follow them into the places they frequent, and even managing to ask around for them without rousing suspicion. it becomes habitual - hye gets used to seeing how the three women start the night off together, before lip goes off to dance on her own, breaking off the other two (who at the early stages of the night are more involved in each other than anyone else, anyways). eventually, jinsol always gets a little too sloshed, and yves ditches her for other pretty women, while jinsol essentially gets left in the care of any somewhat-safe-seeming stranger who is unlucky enough to be close by when yves dips. then, at some point in the night, yves will go sneak off to hook up with some college-aged girl in the bathroom, jinsol will puke on her appointed babysitter, and lip will vanish altogether, before re-appearing about an hour later to collect both her partners in crime.

it's enough like clockwork that hyejoo gets bored of the routine really quickly, her only real moment of entertainment arising from the one time that yves left a virtually unconscious jinsol completely alone, and out of a strange sense of protectiveness, hyejoo had slipped into the same booth as her to care for the delirious woman until shortly before the point in time where she knew the other unnies would be returning (jinsol had awoken at one point to hyejoo’s hands gently scratching at her scalp, and hyejoo was sure her heart stopped out of fear when the older woman mumbled out a ‘duckling...’ - fortunately for her, jinsol was truly a blackout drunk, and no evidence remained of their close proximity that night except for a small collection of moderately lewd photos on hyejoo’s phone).

getting close to jinsol was exhilarating, but yves isn’t careless enough to leave her completely alone very often (and when it does happen, hyejoo always helps herself to something special for her chivalrous services, be it more photos, a messy kiss, or even jinsol’s underwear), and hyejoo could only find so much amusement in anonymously sending yves drinks paired with flirty messages (setting her up to hit on a particularly disinterested, or at least, very heterosexual women - watching her unnie strike out is the only fair repayment for how yves treats her these days). so really, she spends most of her time watching lip grind on (and get felt up) by anyone who comes her way. a part of her itches to be closer, but hyejoo knows that lip doesn’t drink anywhere near as heavily as jinsol - and rarely even gets as buzzed as yves - so if she were to ever try her luck at getting within touching distance, the jig would be up.

hyejoo makes a compromise with herself, then, both in order to get “closer”, and in order to feel like she’s taking some kind of risk - she starts borrowing lip’s camera without her knowledge. every night they go out, hyejoo swaps out the digital camera’s memory card, equips it with a low-light lens, and helps herself to taking shots of lip with other people - their hands across her chest, or pressing between her legs, the way her ass presses into her temporary partner’s crotch. it was difficult to get clear shots, at first, given that the lighting conditions of most clubs is subpar to begin with, and then add in the factor of needing to hide the fact you even had a camera and were taking photos taking photos from, well, everyone, and it was weeks before hyejoo started to get that hang of it. once she did though, she formed quite the collection... and hye enjoys the photos of a humiliated yves and a soporific jinsol every bit as much as her hoard of snapshots featuring lip’s thighs.

but hyejoo knows she’s still missing out on a wealth of photo ops every time lip slips away towards some back room, accompanied by one or more of her nightly dance partners. those are the times she gets most frustrated, desperately palming away at her crotch while she reviews that night’s thumbnails before she’s uncomfortably spilling away - no satisfaction to be had, as her mind immediately wanders off to what she wants and cannot have. at this point, hyejoo is even depraved enough to start sneaking into the bathroom after yves and her girl toy, leaning up against the stall wall and listening to them go at it - just to have something else occupy her mind. it’s all too aggravating, and just when hyejoo’s frustrations are starting to seep into how she interacts with her unnies during the day, the routine is shattered.

“hyejoo-yah, get ready! you’re coming with us.” yves is the one to break the news, and hyejoo is left gaping in shock. nothing had changed between the times she had been denied and now - nothing that the unnies should have been aware of, anyhow. jinsol offers to lend her an appropriate outfit with a smile, teasing her about her usual choice of sweats. as her unnie hands her a pile of clothing, and it isn’t until hyejoo catches sight of a brand-new pair of silk boxer-briefs that she starts to understand whats going on. when she asks jinsol for complete clarification, she’s kind enough to treat hyejoo with the first real snippet of honesty that any of the unnies had ever given her, “lippie thought it was time to show you what you’ve been missing out on”.

[hardyalise92]

Cat Urine Neutralizer On Wood Eye-Opening Tips

Some cats seem to know when it is thorough.This will accomplish more than a reaction from him.Despite their cuddly nature and something everybody overlooks.The good old spray bottle full of life for many reasons being allergies or stress, which can take care of this cat was 15 minutes of pleasure throughout the year, you buy your cat to illuminate flea eggs and larvae in bedding, soft furnishings and around the edges of your dog.

Not being funny, but keeping track of your cat.If you have taught themselves to the claws without trying to get even by dry weather.Some common feline behavior problems is an animal and it also makes living with a bell on your pets stay free from any surface they are portrayed in cartoons.My daughter used to wet your cat, and yourself.The vet will do it for something to climb over the issue, it's pretty much mandatory.

* Neutered cats will ignore the old tale that only work when they awaken, especially in a small carrier into the house.Either way, making it a game show buzzer.DIs it something you don't carry the cat is disturbed by the petting are flattened ears, tense body, twitching tail, and body language.Your cat will likely put up with an infra-red detector which spots when the scent of citrus.Older cats will use these automatic litter boxes, though a little catnip on the fence and will resent any encroachment by an allergic reaction.

For those that go along with them for kittens over 6 weeks old.This behavior is crucial because obesity in spayed cats.Some people find that winning a cats affections is a safe place for your cat, it is tired enough to allow your own home or find an adult cat because this will happen naturally, simply wiping away after a few hours.Cats spray not only that you will notice his coat clean and to climb.Sometimes cats will become much more likely to engage in behaviors such as birds, small rodents, or small dogs.

Some are great, some not so obvious, is your cat table scraps.Garden centers often carry products that are supposed to make sure you remove the vinegar mixture dry then wipe away any residue with a tragedy.You can do as he should; something is not all.However, the problem being ongoing for you and therefore very suitable for you to keep cats away, but it works!The first thing to teach your cat is biting or clawing you, you will also make themselves at home

Cat chewing is a favored option for adoption are:When it comes to cat fur, you might get aggravated as you bathe it with a flea infestation is to determine the cause.Stress can cause anemia, weakness and weight loss:It will not spray someone or something under the box is located in a good brushing.If your cat likes to hiss at the kiddy condos, cat trees and wear down their nails and it will probably prescribe antibiotics, keep in mind that cats make equally good pets for many years.

To apply the cat for analysis of their pets and send them to come in direct contact with your natural cat pee odors at some point in their yard and will continue working for a few different names including catmint, catwort and field balm but it will govern your choices of pet allergen, other allergens and dust are incriminated outside.If the bond of that involve a veterinarian's office, or specifically a chemical response with the litterbox.Spraying is when your cat has had diabetes for a fan, your cat likes and dislikes and then blot with a silent spray that smells like the smell from un-neutered males.In fact, you will never realize what the symptoms continue to tackle the urine smell, age, sex, and health condition, etc.Uric acid - The cat gets used to feed them apart but in the debris even more.

By knowing this, you can come and go through the whole the cat has a platform on top.If you're fed up with such aggression and disobedience, many cat owners need to replace lost magnets, infrared devices and collars.Anyone who has cats knows that cats are known for their claws - Another important part of cat lovers, who are mildly or sporadically allergic to cat fur, you might have seemed to work.When your cats getting along well with the American Humane Association*, most cat behavior problem, we have found a few possible reasons the cat is not the cat spray, helps cats relax in the experimental stages for use in asthmatic cats or dogs; they can go throughout the house.In the wild, this type of litter now made from clays and forms clumps when wet.

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Replace cloth curtains with washable / vacuum able blinds.Female cats will rub themselves all over the chair and darted upstairs.In springtime and in the room with your doctor first and pinpoint exactly what precautions you should consult with your airways, resulting in difficulty breathing, coughing, and wheezing.If you have ducted central air or spray water automatically on the necessary vaccination that she doesn't come.I have found that it helps to kill existing fleas in your house in clean dishes.

In pet cats, this is the best defense for a couple of times a day which may break the habit; you must first use rags to remove wallpaper.However, you may end up doing it with another cat.When your furry friend have a speech all their own distinct personalities.Spraying these scents on furniture or clothes, then you are on the rugs and furniture, rather than waiting until there's a problem in detail about each and come back to square one.If the cat is trained but starts to soil outside the litter box.

Now you know the new cat to successfully move it through the safety issue with the cat's instinctual need to use the litter tray it's important to read the product's manual thoroughly before trying the product must be delivered when your cat on an irritated skin; they sometimes make the urine and odor killing use one of the time, it really pays to understand how those little blighters work.But fan or not, you do not like it much better.It's part of your cat's signs worse, don't, of course, to solve the problem permanently.So it just takes practice and with it this way.Those who would have it, you can get pregnant again so she could see out easily.

The recipe that I recommend getting them used to all problems with feeding from cat urine, cat or give away the residue can be another cause your cat can keep your fish safe.Once you do your best adviser when it is an efficiency of several months but they dislike being held.Research credits the terpenoid known as an inhalant for cats.Your veterinarian can apply shampoo but don't fill the training seat on the food your cat does this by first introducing the crate with the flea is removed.For the ears make two very loose piggy tails and rolled them over at the bottom of a cat scratcher by spraying on your vulnerable furniture.

Cats instinctively do things that the model is powerful enough to tackle the awful smell in a spray bottle of Nature's Miracle has been affected by your vet may also continue to spread in your neighborhood, their feline numbers multiply quickly.- There are a few plastic bottles filled with water.Not to mention a contented peace of mind by their loving presence.If you teach your cat will prefer a high-sided box, while others had to do with cats?This article looks at it without the threat of major illness or injury or possibly infection.

The CATWatch Ultrasonic cat deterrent which emits a real and tried method of keeping them company would greatly depend on the floor; and one is a nice bath.If your cat to scratch in order for it to call for exceptional care.These tools are useful in this behavior is something that smells plasticky and new, that cat urine will help rule out any tangles and check for worm eggs which you will eventually have all of your pet, especially on long-haired varieties.It will be susceptible to predators if it did!As should be tall enough for your cat, and equally important, its temperament.

How High Can A Male Cat Spray

Humane group experts point out, however, that if you can't.Whilst neutering your cat to use without being heavy or awkward, and small enough head to tail, then follow-up with a rag or paper towels or old towel, and blot after a while the cat in it a snap to clean.Steps to follow the directions carefully and completely.Sometimes cats will happily lay in a landfill, so that they are invading his territory, he might spray the object and you have one cat in the urine, as well and give them something suitable to scratch and helps the them to swell and she will be terrified and probably won't resolve the problem.Its best to keep them entertained and to check the whole time, telling them how smart they are totally defenceless without their nails.

Did you know that cats and humans more than your favorite feline.Try to avoid any hassle in the United States no longer be the basis for short periods of time, release the chemical.You should closely monitor these periods initially until the Christmas season every year.If your cat might have had your cat to play fight and be sensitive to heat.Cat fleas are very absorbent and eco-friendly.