#second one is just confusing!!! like no i did not just post that persons url actually thanks
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there’s like. a Lot of bad going on with the tumblr updates rn that r annoying as shit. but i think by far my least favorite are
- not being able to go back a reblog, but more than that NOT BEING ABLE TO GO BACK TO THE ORIGINAL POST. see the original tags all the original content etc
- when someone reblogs smthn from u it no longer showing the content of what they reblogged in the preview, but rather showing up as like. “starscelly reblogged your post ‘starscelly’” . where in the quotations Should show the text of the post
#second one is just confusing!!! like no i did not just post that persons url actually thanks#the first one genuinely ruins how i use tumblr LOL#i put a lot of tags on my posts!!! sometimes it’s important 2 me that ppl are able to click back and see those if they want!!!!#ugh#yap yap yapping
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Nice blog you got there cherri
ok so i have like fifteen other asks but i need to address this first because it's been an issue for nearly a month now and these anons tried to find my main and did what i think was an attempt at doxing me.
this is a post to spread awareness to my followers, despite the person concerned not being aware that i'm doing this at this moment (i will tag them and DM them about it soon). long post, but important.
i may reblog this with additional info in the future, so if you feel this gives limited information check the reblogs or comments.
these anons tried scarying me off of running my blog by constant harassment for days straight, which thankfully stopped as i ended up blocking them. as you can see they ended up bypassing my block or asked someone from another account to continue the harassment and attempts at inducing fear. frankly, what this is causing me is anger as im not the only one involved in this unfortunately.
one of the first hate anons on this blog was a spam of four or more anons asking me if i was the person the anon im replying to is mentioning here. i didn't think much of it as they came with another roughly dozen of hate anon spam which (surprise surprise/s) disappeared in its entirety once i blocked one of them. meaning a single person was harassing me.
i ended up contacting the person these anons were thinking i was, and decided to not reply to the first batch of hate, as first they had the url fully typed out in the ask and I didn't want to expose the person concerned, and second I didn't want to bother any of my followers with one salty hater. they were as weirded out as me that they got involved into this without any logical link between my main, their main, or this sideblog, asides from the fact that they were one of the handful of people that supported me early on and even accepted in dms to share my blog to a discord server (a small one, but they were excited about my blog and asked if i was ok with them sharing it and i said ok).
i had asked them to not make a callout post on their own blog about this nor to go and harass anyone. which they didn't. additionally, i sent them screenshots of the hate anons and explained to them that i didn't want to put their blog url publicly by answering the anon as I felt it was a safety issue. but they insisted that they didn't mind it and that if i changed my mind about the whole issue and decided to go public i would.
so here's their url -> @cherrifruiti (they're getting free promo lol, hopefully it balances out the harassment and targeting they went through. they're an artist and honestly good friend. we bonded more over this. go check them out)
the insistence of this anon on trying to find my main was confusing to me at first. i did not choose to remain anonymous on here for privacy reasons, hell, not even safety reasons. i deal with worse bullshit on main than here. i wanted this blog mainly to have an anonymous moderator as a way to leave space for the community voices. i felt like a faceless blog was a more welcoming environment than having the baggage of a whole person, moral alignments, blend into a space that's catered towards a specific goal and discussion. which to be fair was a huge hit for my ego. id love to share my full identity with y'all and have the accomplishments of this blog linked to me. but im stubborn and attached to my values.
to put it simply, i did not want to make the same mistake as the admin from @narcissisticpdcultureis did.
that being said, i did not lie on any of my values linked with my DNI. i wanted this blog to be accessible to cluster b personality disorder havers and the wider community regardless of their backgrounds, but with some limits for my own mental health and personal boundaries, that i tried keeping limited. notably regarding discourse. of any kind. and as another addition for resources in the npd and cluster b community. just as another community space, not a monopoly.
despite the amount of hate and adversity expressed from the admin of @narcissisticpdcultureis , i had not made this blog with adversity, harassment, anger, or "rebellion" in mind. unlike how the admin seemed to take my act of creating my own digital space and express emotional distain for my blog for the sake of existing. blaming me of doing so to put them in a bad light, while the only thing i did was point out information they already had made accessible to the public about themselves in their pinned post. which i didn't give a moral alignment to it, just stated that i was personally uncomfortable with it.
i am not condoning harassment, but I will not police your actions either. this individual(s) had put the url of my sideblog publicly in a rant of theirs aimed to put me and my work in a bad light without regards of my safety or mental health, and lead many, potentially themselves personally as well, to put me through constant anonymous harassment while i had expressed since the beginning i didn't want to be affiliated or interact with their blog, and never mentioned their url publicly up to now, to avoid the same scenario that just happened to me from their doing.
additionally, in their rant about my blog, they mentioned another npd culture that apparently was created adjacent to theirs, potentially for similar reasons as mine although this is unknown.
im gonna say one thing.
if anything, i like the attention. you decided that i, a small account, who didn't have the self estime to ever think would get traction, caused enough of a problem to make your, way more popular, blog feel threatened. i feel honored.
my only issue is that you failed to find my main blog, which frankly offended me. now my friend is the one getting all the spotlight instead of me </3
i did not judge you on morality when i decided to distance myself from your content due to your syscourse stance. but i am judging you now by your actions. i will be reporting you for harassment and encourage everyone in my social circles to do so as well.
i am not going anywhere.
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Alright y’all, we’ve gotta have a real talk.
I’ve realized a couple things in the last few days.
1. Far more of my followers are minors than I had realized.
2. The Prosaic Wonders SmallEtho fic I’m writing is going to be rated Explicit. There are just too many adult themes that I want to explore in this fic that I cannot scrub it to make a Teen or even Mature rating.
Now, point 1 isn’t, in & of itself, a problem. I don’t mind minors following me, as I don’t really post much that I think would be a problem here. So long as y’all keep in mind that I have been an adult longer than some of you have been alive, & respect my boundaries related to that fact, we should be fine.
However. For my own comfort & safety, I do not feel okay posting about a fic that’s going to be explicit on a blog with so many minors following me. & while the AU itself isn’t inherently explicit, for the sake of keeping things neatly organized & also maintaining my own sanity, I don’t think I can post about the AU at all here anymore.
So, going forward, I will not be posting Prosaic Wonders AU content on this blog.
I have made a different, separate blog where all that will be taking place. I’m not like hiding the blog, but I’m not going to just post the url here. If you are an adult & interested, feel free to send me a dm & I’ll send you the url.
If you are a minor, I have some ground rules about this whole situation that I ask you respect:
1. Do not follow, like, reblog, or interact with my nsfw blog in any way.
2. Do not interact with the explicit fic on AO3.
3. Do not try to talk to me about the explicit fic or the AU on this blog, via comments, tags, asks, or DMs.
4. Just like. Don’t in any way let me know that you are aware of this fic’s/AU’s existence.
I’m not an idiot. I remember what it’s like to be a teenager, even if that was dizzyingly long time ago. While I’d rather you just not read this fic or find my adult content blog, I know that I cannot actually stop you from doing what you’re going to do because I am not there in person to physically wrench the keyboard from your hands or throw your phone out a window the second you click on something you shouldn’t.
But I can hold these boundaries firm. So if I see you breaking any of those ground rules, I will have to block you. I don’t say this to be mean; I say this because I would be extremely uncomfortable & would feel very unsafe if you did these things, & I have to maintain distance from anyone who breaks my boundaries.
If you are a minor & you were excited about this fic/au, I am really sorry about this confusion/miscommunication.
I hadn’t realized when I started posting about it that this fic was going to come into being, much less that I would feel compelled to make it my first nsfw fic. & even once I realized I wanted those sorts of scenes in it, I still was thinking I could just make them like. Bonus scenes in a separate fic or something, so I could give the longfic a lower rating. But yesterday, I was working on the outline & realized there is no way I can do that without also throwing out one of the big conflicts of the piece & I am not going to make that compromise for the first thing I’ve actually felt like writing & committing to in forever.
I’m sorry if this is disappointing, but thank you, genuinely, for your understanding.
- Verdant Glow
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am i warm enough for you?
➳ tags ;; soulmate au, strangers to lovers, fluff and angst but mostly fluff, some-what canon compliant, bakugo katsuki is bad at feelings, lots of Feelings™, you guys are adults but the end of the fic but the fic is sfw, alcohol, drunk confessions
➳ wc ;; 5.6k..
➳ plot summary ;; you see your soulmate in dreams - sometimes in bits and pieces and other times in full. bakugo is less than inclined to admit he even has a soulmate - and you learn how to cope with it, one day at a time.
bakugo learns that this soulmate shit is no joke. that has to be why he keeps falling for you so helplessly.
➳ a/n ;; i wasn’t even gonna comeback this early but it felt so wrong not to post on my bfs birthday so alas </3 for anyone who cares to know this is @elysianseraph but with my new url. nice to see u all <3
this was originally posted on 4/20 but im reposting cause it didn’t show up in the tags dskjds
It’s hazy.
A cloud of smoke settles over your body, permeating your lung. It smells like sugar, like burning, like smoke and a little like leather. You can feel your toes curl and your hands moving but your body is separate from you in a way you can’t describe. It’s a pleasant kind of warmth that spreads, creeping up from behind your neck till it’s soft and cradling your skull. It’s soft like the touch of a mother, like wool over your ears.
It’s a pleasant feeling, that’s all. Almost cozy but there’s a fading sense of distress that chills in your lungs as you encompass it. Your hands are too small to reach forward, and truthfully the sensation is so powerful that you’re afraid to reach out. You’re 6 years old, so all you know is how it makes you feel. You can’t remember many details, but you feel pleasant. Something about it is soft, but there’s a sharp edge right at the end that has your lungs gasping for air.
It’s a flash of colors. Red. Orange. Pale Yellow. Grey. Black. Forest Green. Red. Red. Orange. Red.
And then it fades into a feeling again. A blurry feeling. You feel conflict, then concern, then inadequacy in heavy waves almost like it’s drowning you. It’s the first time you’ve experienced such a pain, so your wailing and wiping tears away with chubby fingers and saying a name you don’t know and can’t remember.
Ka. You know the sound, Ka. But you don’t know of anything more. It repeats rhythmically in your mind like a knock on the door, rapping with urgency - but it doesn’t do anything to jog your memory. Someone is trying to be let in but you don’t know how to answer them, and you’re still crying. The distress, the inadequacy shakes you and all you feel is frustration in short simple bursts.
Your first encounter with your soulmate is written this way in your memory. A sense of urgency laced with frustration - but they’re not towards you. It’s him, his feelings - you can feel them even deeper then he can. They pierce you in a way that makes it hard to breathe, no matter how you try to escape them it’s an overwhelming feeling of helplessness. The only way to escape the feelings of a dream is either to control them, or to face them and swim through the fog.
Soulmates have an urgency to them, in general. His is different, you can tell as much. Your first soulmate dream leaves the heaviest impression and each one thereafter is like pieces of a puzzle.
Sometimes you simply share random dreams, like a split screen in a video game - the two of you witness different parts of the same dreamverse. Other times, and honestly - most times, you’re experiencing their emotions or feelings. You experience their core memories, their life, in flashes and bits and pieces.
It’s not enough to know them or who they are, it’s like know everything about them except the things that matter
Sometimes you meet too. Just barely.
MEETING 1:
The room is white. When you blink, colors flash in order - red, pale yellow, orange, forest green and you know. You blink a few more times, stretching your hands out in front of yourself. Curling your hands into fist then into stretched palms, you lean forward and stretch. You wriggle your toes - notice you're wearing shoes. Clothes from your closet. Strange.
You take a look around the room but there isn't much to see. There’s a wall in front of you with a glass divider and a mirrored empty room. The room across from yours has spiky decor littered against the walls. An orange dresser, plastic grenades and play guns. You know who it is without a second warning - and a foggy part in the back of your head tells you that it’s him, again but with more force. You don’t see anything in your room, but you figure he might. All of it is confusing to you.
Before you can blink, there’s a loud thud coming from the other side of the glass. It’s a silhouette, the outline of a face - but nothing clear. Dream logic dictates you can’t know a face you’ve never seen, yet somehow you know his outline. Spiky, he’s spiky everywhere.
“Hello?,” you call out, overly tentative. The figure pauses, seems to take in whatever they must be seeing. You’re not sure what response you’re expecting, really. There’s no expectations at all.
“...Who the fuck are you?,” says a pitchy, male voice. He sounds like he’s your same age, a highschool boy. His throat is rough, yet not overly deep. It’s almost scratchy.
“Uhm,”
You’re not sure how to reply. You can see him through the glass, but not really. Still, you take note of his shadows like they’re going to tell you anything more. You shove your hands in your pockets, messing around with something inside.
“Uh.. your soulmate, I think,” you reply.
Scratching the back of your neck as an awkward silence settles, you take a few minutes to try and figure what more to say.
“We met when we were kids once too,” you explain awkwardly. He must know, has too - this soulmate thing is a two way thing, but his silence is deafening. You just want to feel this space. Is it always this awkward?
“Red. Orange. Pale Yellow. Forest Green,” you repeat, like a mantra. You hear him take in a sharp breath, and freeze. For some reason, you’d like to avoid upsetting him. He doesn’t seem like he’s taking to the information too well.
“I don’t have time for this damn bullshit… whatever quirk you’ve got to mimic this - cut it the fuck out,”
Hostile.
You pause, not sure how to feel. Half of you is offended, the other half is confused - had you done something to upset him? You can feel how he feels - but you don’t understand it. You sit with your mouth agape, like a fish out of water. Unsure of how to proceed, you scoff a little.
“Woah.. this isn’t a quirk thing. We’re.. soulmates? That’s already a thing,”
More silence. You’ve.. he doesn’t seem upset, but you can tell he’s not all that keen to the idea. It’s a bare minimum improvement that you find yourself valuing, without your consent. He breathes again, throat even more hoarse than before. His voice is angry but it doesn’t fit his responses, his feelings - so you don’t pay attention to his madness. Something is off.
“... I’m not supposed to have a soulmate. No fucking way I have a soulmate,” he grits. You step back, stumbling. You didn’t have any expectations.. but this wasn’t what you had been expecting at all. You feel uneasy, sick. It must be a shared feeling if the way he leans against a wall counts for anything.
A beat of silence passes before you open your mouth to speak.
“... I have no idea what I’m supposed to say to that,” you admit. He scoffs.
“Nothing you damn extra. Leave me the fuck alone,”
You don’t reply, too stunned. This was your soulmate? This.. asshole? Not that you were a peach entirely either, but this was supposedly the person that the universe had decided for you?
You shake your head. Maybe you’re just being rash? He could be a nice guy behind all the chaos. You try your best to hold onto that, that this was literally someone chosen for you before you gave up all hope. You sigh, cracking your neck.
“You can say whatever you want but.. we’re here, you know? It’s more productive to just go with it.. isn’t it?,”
“Go fuck yourself,”
“After meeting you, I’m not exactly over the fucking moon about it either. It is what is,”
“You’re not my fucking.. soulmate or whatever the fuck. Leave me alone,”
Your heart both aches with anger and sadness. You don’t know what to do. What does this shit-head know about you, anyway? You know he’s been through some shit, same as you - what makes him so entitled? You swallow the lump in your throat. It hurts. It pierces. Stupid soulmate bonds.
“Yeah? Alright. Fuck you too,”
You see him pace around for a longer before he disappears in a cloud of smoke. You didn’t even catch his name, and you’re not sure you wanted too. It must be morning, but at least you're away from him. It feels lonely, but it must just be you.
Your eyes flutter open but your heart is heavy with regret. You don’t know who it belongs to, but you’ve got class in an hour and not enough time to think about it. If he doesn’t want to meet you that’s fine.
It’s fine. Not like you wanted to meet your soulmate anyway.
__
You don’t have another meeting with your soulmate for months. Lately your dreams have little if anything to do with him or where he is, how he’s been. You have some of those split screen ones, where you know he’s there but neither of you acknowledge each other, even in spirit, like how you did before. When you wake up feeling angsty, you don’t know how to distinguish the feeling but you don’t try.
You wonder idly if he can feel your apathy, if he cares enough too. Maybe he also mistakes it for his own? It seems likely.
It’s a weekday where you’re getting ready for remedial classes at your school. First year advanced courses were no joke, and you find yourself regretting your choice to participate in them.
Still you get dressed anyway, put your uniform on and brush your teeth - wash your face with your eyes half open and look presentable. No one's home in the morning, the house is empty of any life but you. Food becomes a last minute priority, so you make an egg sandwich with cheese and eat it on the way to the train station.
You stare down at your feet as you step outside, music drowning out the noise of your surroundings aptly. The walk to the station is long and the ride is longer, but the streets are packed edge to edge. Musutafu is busy this time of year - the U.A. Sports Festival is taking place today and everything seems to reflect that. You barely manage to squeeze past all the strangers on the subway - clearly on their way to see it.
When you get to school, you're greeted by a mostly empty classroom with a teacher. These classes were straightforward as always, do the work you need to correct, have it approved and leave. It repeats until your finished with all the assignments and you get to be done. You give a respectful nod to your teacher before grabbing your work from your bag.
It goes on and on - occasionally, you hear an excited gasp and quiet chatter from classmates. It’s about the festival, the happenings - but you’re too caught up in completing your work that day and trying to get the fuck out of their as soon as possible.
Shit like that didn’t matter to you, anyways. It’s just a festival.
You leave around the same time the festival seems to have ended, the streets flooded with people - you miss the first station and wander towards an electronics store a block away from your highschool.
It’s the winners on TV. A guy with split hair - Shouto Todoroki, Endeavors son. A guy with a bird head, and a blonde with red eyes - muzzled to the pole.
When you see them, your heart stops. You can feel anger, an unfamiliar rage and humiliation building in your chest. It feels the word has stopped as you watch from afar, through screens. Your soulmate seems upset about something, but you wouldn’t know what.
And that blonde on TV, you wonder if you know him from somewhere.
MEETING 2:
Red.Orange. Pale Yellow. Grey. Black. Forest Green. Red. Red.
You feel him before you even know what’s happening - and it catches you completely off-guard. You haven’t had a proper soulmate dream in two years. Smoke clouds your lungs, the taste of sugar burning your tongue as you cough yourself into awareness. This time, you’re not in a room but it’s a campground. In the middle of the space is a bonfire, burning warmly. This one feels more vivid, more real.
But you know it’s not, your body feel unusually light and your hands can’t hold anything for too long. You know it’s a dream, but you sit in the chair anyway. It feels like you're floating. You feel oddly warm. Dread builds in the pit of your stomach. Even though it’s been so long since you’ve spoken to your soulmate - you can’t forget the terrible first encounter. It sticks to the roof of your mouth - a bitter memory that fills you with unexplainable, irrational resentment.
But it’s not like you hadn’t been seeing him, to an extent. You’ve seen all his memories in bits and pieces - all of them tragic and painful. This time, you see people but they come in the form of small scraps. Spiky Red. Electricity. Tape. Pink with Horns. Music. Green. So much green and red - like Christmas, you’ve called it. You’ve seen disappearances, fear, anguish - so much anguish.
In the weeks after All Might’s fall, you were in so much pain - you couldn’t stop crying for days. It’s been enough time to know what feelings were yours and which were his - and these ones felt so much like him. It went on for nearly a year - you’d almost got accustomed to it. If tears showed up to blot the ink of your lecture notes, you didn’t think twice about it. You tried to keep yourself calm, steady - in hopes you could lend your soothing to him. Even if he hated your guts, you could barely believe so much sadness could exist in one person. You didn’t know what happened but whatever it was - it must’ve been terrible. At the very least, you felt sympathy.
Sympathy was enough to get by for a long time. A neutral, level-headed sympathy that helped soothe some of your own hurt.
All that said, you were hardly expecting to see him again - especially not this soon. You don’t remember the last time you thought about him in anything other than passing - actively. It’s one thing to know what's happening - you’ve felt him passively everyday for damn near two years.
But it’s another thing to see him in front of you, force yourself to acknowledge him as your soulmate even if he insists on not doing the same.
You squirm in your chair, noticing that you’re wearing PJ’s instead of clothes. Just a hoodie and sweats, none of which fit you quite right. You pull your sleeves over your hands, fiddling with the stray strand of thread loose.
“What the fuck is this shit?,”
Your stomach drops. Unsure of what to say, you opt to say nothing at all. Just let him be, sit quietly in your dreams and mind your business. Maybe he’ll wake up soon and it’ll all be over.
You can’t see him from the corner of your vision but you can hear him shuffle. The way he touches things, noticing how they make noise but don’t feel quite right in his hands. How it feels real but doesn’t, how it is real and isn’t. Surely, he’s noticed you by now. The lingering silence makes you squirm.
“...It’s you,”
You flinch, lifting your head up slightly to meet his gaze. His expression is unreadable, but it’s different from before. In a fleeting moment, something occurs to you.
You can see him. What he looks like. Blonde with red eyes, and a sharp chin and thin waist. You know it must mean you’ve seen him before - perhaps you’d even seen each other, but for your life you can’t remember where you’ve seen his face. It’s right there, on the edge of your mind, but you’re stumped.
“Hello?,”
“Oh,” your reply comes short, strained. Your eyes flutter as you press your lips into a flat line. “Uh, hi,”
The blonde sits in the chair, slumping down. His eyes go towards the flickering flames without another word and you decide it’s best not to engage. It stays like that for a while, a beat of silence - not awkward but not comfortable, passing by without another thought. It all feels real, present - not like normal dreams. This must be the special kind of soulmate thing you find yourself feeling resentful towards.
His eyes are heavy. Relief is overwhelming him, with an iron grip and he’s worried you can feel it. If you can, you don’t say a word.
“I didn’t think I’d see you again,” he admits.
The words sound tender passing through his mouth, unmistakably so - but you don’t get your hopes up. Instead, you give him a placating laugh, leaning forward towards the fire and mirroring him.
“I didn’t think so either,”
When it falls silent, it feels comfortable. It’s not like either of you have anything to say to each other right now, with no manual on how this was supposed to go. If he even wanted to go there.
“I can.. see you,” you start. He squints.
“You couldn’t before?,”
This takes you by surprise. You shake your head.
“No..Could you? See me, I mean?,”
Bakugo feels heat rise to his skin. Oh. Huh.
“Yeah,” he replies, a sharp inhale leaving his lungs “I can see you,”
There’s something tense in the air. It’s a strange sensation - to know the deepest and most intimate parts of someone without even knowing their name proper, or where they went to school, or what they normally eat for breakfast. All that connects you are these mutual feelings, shared grief that holds you two to the title of soulmates. This odd bond.
“..d’ya still think I’m a quirk wielding villain?,” you laugh, or try too - you’re doing your best to cut the tension. He can feel your hurt all the way from your sit, so deep in his gut - it’s been haunting him for years. How many nights of sleep he’s lost knowing there are soft and helpless tears coming from these suppressed feelings. He doesn’t know how to say sorry, so he sighs and rubs the back of his neck. He’s changed a lot in two years - but not enough to be good at this.
“No, I don’t,”
“Oh,”
He smiles, just a little. It’s gentle, casts shadow on his face from the light of the fire. It’s warm, everything feels warm and better and invigorating. When you look at him and his uneasy expression - you know he feels it too.
“By the way, uhm - what’s your name? Ka.. something? Right?,”
His eyes shoot up in surprise. He nods a little.
“Katsuki Bakugo,” he replies, expectantly. You seem surprised that he wants to know yours.
“Y/N Y/L/N,” comes your reply.
“Nice to meet you,” says him, Bakugo - your soulmate.
“Nice to meet you too,”
__
Getting to know Bakugo is unusually easy. You get the feeling it wouldn’t be, in the case that you were anything but soulmates - but Bakugo has never known being this intimate with someone other than you. Despite himself, how much he hates himself - you never seem too. Even though you feel and see all the ugliest parts of him - have since he was small enough to still be innocent, you always treat him the same.
Your conversations are short, and shallow. Regardless, he’s not used to talking so much about himself. But you’re always curious, so much so Bakugo doesn’t have the heart to see your countless questions go unanswered.
You keep a little notebook of all of your encounters. You remember them by heart but write them down too, just in case you miss something. You ask about his friends - Spiky Red and Soft Green, referring to them that way even after you’ve known their names. You ask about his work - the life of a dangerous hero, and if he ever gets nervous flying through the air.
Admittedly, he’s mean to you. He teases you so frequently, he’s lost count of all the times you’ve huffed and puffed at his sarcastic remarks. Still, you never turn away from him. You stand with your foot down and your arms crossed over your chest - insistent on making him feel flustered too. And it works, somehow - because you know all too much about Bakugou and always gets him right where he’s most conscious about. You don’t have to tease him about his feelings since you know them like the palms of your hand.
But these shallow conversations always mean a little more to him that he knows how to verbalize, and half the time he doesn’t need to do that at all. You’ve learned the masterful of working around him quietly, making all the parts of that feel too big to love - something small and fragile. Somehow, you’ve made being with him, even as friends - feel like less of an impossible feat but a dream.
Katsuki Bakugo has been in love with you since he was 6 years old. There must be some feelings we cannot share with our soulmates, because he has no idea if you feel it or not. He just knows he does, somewhere deep in the cavern of his heart, he loves you.
You never cross the barrier of romance with him, though. A paralyzing fear seems to settle in your bones when you breach too close to love and intimacy - and Bakugo understands those feelings, even if he doesn’t know exactly why they’re there. It’s not something you’ve decided to tell him yet, but he feels it in the same way he feels your loneliness. You may be kind but you’re more guarded than he is, and not fearless but reckless.
But he still finds himself aching to love and be loved by you, no matter how much he hates it. The yearning still manages to swallow him, even late into the night.
MEETING 3:
It’s been a while since your last meeting with Bakugo but not long. You were 21 now, but your dream visits were frequent. When you weren't speaking or seeing him through dreams - you were watching him on TV. You’d been yet to meet with him in real life but to you, that was okay. Seeing him like this had been more than enough.
Today was different. Normally, that bonfire was always a back-drop to these little encounters but it was a field today - a filed with rolling hills and hundreds of flowers and tall grass that made you feel itchy. The sun was permanently stuck right before it set but it was so warm everywhere. When you get there, there’s a blanket on the top of one of the hills. You sit on it cautiously and watch the wind pass. Everything is tinged orange, and red - you know he’s there with you before he appears.
When he does, he seems different. You glance over at him as he stumbles towards you in a stupor, and when he does finally sit - you get a whiff of alcohol coming from his neck and mouth. It’s strong enough to make a little dizzy. Blinking owlishly, he sits crisscross besides you, staring a little at the surroundings.
“..the fuck?,” he slurs. You can’t help but break out into a laugh. He nearly falls over, body swaying so you bring his head down to your shoulder wordlessly, a furious heat running all over your skin. Even though you can’t feel him, the gesture makes you feel something in your belly.
“Why’re you so drunk?,”
“Birthday,” he mumbles. Your eyes widen in surprise. Bakugo is seemingly unfazed, eyes drooping with tiredness. He’s completely inebriated.
You feel yourself grow tender. You’d have to wake up and remember the days date. Despite all the times you’ve met, you had no clue about his birthday or how he celebrated. You feel your heart ache at the idea you’ve spent the latter half of it together, in your own way.
“Happy Birthday, Bakugo.”
“Bakugo this, Bakugo that,” he growls, a little incoherent “We’re supposed to be fucking soulmates and you still call me by that.. damn name.”
He hiccups a little as you sit there stunned. You blink.
“.. You think of us as soulmates?,”
“Are you some kind of moron?,”
You scowl, flicking his forehead with your thumb and forefinger. He makes a noise of indignance.
“Well, how would I know? When we first met, you didn’t seem enthused about it,”
Bakugo sighs tiredly.
“I was 15 and an asshole - clearly I don’t fuckin’ feel that anymore,”
You seem surprised again.
“..You don’t?,”
Instead of swearing at you, he closes his eyes and gets closer to you. The liquor runs through his system like liquid courage and he nods a little.
“Not at all,”
“What do you..”
“What do you think I mean?,” he barks a laugh. You feel your pulse under your skin, drumming against your chest like a hammer. You can’t even breathe.
You’ve had feelings for Bakugo from the second proper meeting you’d had with him. It was clear as a day that he was your soulmate for good reason, that inexplicable draw that kept your heart from ever belonging to anyone else. You tried to - tried to go on dates and see other opportunities through but he was always so one of a kind.
Yet, you’d given up all hope that it would mean anything to harbor these feelings, convinced that Bakugo simply wasn’t interested in you In doing any of this. You didn’t want to force him into something he didn’t want - so you kept your distance with hope that he’d still be in your life. It was enough, or you’d wanted it to be.
It’d be a lie to say that you hadn’t started thinking about it more and more as the days pass. What it would be like to see him, touch him and love him and be with him for real - these passive daydreams gone vivid. If he could see your dreams, he must know about them. But you didn’t know how to approach it - how to approach love at all.
That’s the thing with soulmates. You’re told that you’ll just have the answers, destiny will do the hard work but that’s far from true. Because even now, with Bakugo leaning on your shoulder with this confession lingering in the air - you don’t know what to do.
“Stop being so nervous,” he mumbles. You stumble a little over yourself.
“Sorry,”
He chuckles.
“You really need me to say it, huh?,” he sighs. He picks himself. If he’s drunk and reckless, then fuck it - he’s gonna take it all the way. He drops his head onto your lap with a tired sigh.
“I think you’re my soulmate, you fuckin’ idiot,” he admits.
And it’s hard to say, because feelings don’t come easy for Bakugo Katsuki - but it’s the least he can do. All Bakugo Katsuki has ever known is to be lonely. It’s a loneliness that he’d forced on himself. Bottling up all the anger and sadness and swallowing it. It’s long since sunk it’s claws into him. That overwhelming, all consuming ugly feeling that lingers underneath that superiority complex.
That no one would ever, could ever love the ugliness that lingers in him. That no one who knew him for what he truly is, could care for him. Deku was the first of many disbeliefs and not much had changed.
Except for when it did. Except for when he met you - in a dream, and you were real and beautiful even at 15. That the universe hadn’t been playing some sick joke on him when he kept seeing you in his dreams, so soothing to his teenage loneliness. You were real and that was so fucking scary.
But you loved him anyway. Looked out for him when he was at his lowest - the soothing beat of your heart in the days after All Mights end . When he cried himself into sleep and dreamed of you. God, how he dreamed of you. Not especially romantic dreams, but dreams of how you made breakfast. How you watched cartoons on Sunday and read manga in your classes instead of the assigned work. How you fell asleep on the train station and always ate icecream after big tests. How you were especially mundane and how he got to be apart of that everyday routine.
After all, you see dreams of each other, but Bakugo has no clue what your dreams of him look like. His have always looked like you though.
When he was worthless and empty and unable to give you anything meaningful, to apologize or put his pride away - you had loved him anyway. Felt for him with clumsy hands and held on, not letting go. Even when he was begging for you to leave him alone, in fear of this all being nothing more than a cruel dream - you held on tightly to him. With your silly notebook questions and dumb names.
Bakugo Katsuki has never known what it means to love someone who isn’t you. Even if you found someone else and there was someone better than you for him, he would grit his teeth and bear it. He wonders if he’ll ever believe he deserves you. He wants to believe you’re his soulmate - to believe you wont ever leave. To believe that he did something right enough that the universe could give him someone like you.
And he wishes he could say all this, but he can’t - he just closes his eyes and hopes you can feel it.
“You’re so mean,”
“Isn’t that why you like me?,” he grins.
And you can feel his sincerity. He should feels yours too.
“I love you, actually,”
He gasps, a sharp breath that stabs his lungs. He feels sober from the confession.
His voice is gravelly when he speaks.
“Yeah, shit - me too,”
__
Your heart beats rapidly in your chest. The address is correct, it has to be with the way this place looks. Only a hero could live here, with the floors that lead up to skies. He lives on 3rd floor, so you swallow your fear. You give yourself a thumbs up in the glass window pane of the building before entering through the doors.
When you get there, a box sits. You press the button next to his place, bouncing on the balls of your feet until you answer.
“Hello?,”
His voice feels different in real life. You cough.
“Uh, hi,” you greet awkwardly “I’m here,”
“Oh,” he says. You hear something buzz and then him again. “Come on up,”
And you do. The elevator ride feels like it stretches mild, classic piano echoing against the empty walls. You feel yourself feel sick but you’re not sure it’s from the movement. All you can do is fidget and wait.
When the doors open, you peak your head out into the hallway. He’s the first one on the left, just as promised. You can see a welcome mat - forest green, and something in you knows that it’s the right one.
You step up and knock, three times precisely. Your heart is all the way in your ears and everything in you is filled with unease and excitement.
When the door swings open, the world stops. You gape like a fish out of water in disbelief. He’s tall and big like he promised he’d be, but you’re unprepared. His chin is scruffy, eyes full of sleep. Strong chest and arms that seem to crowd your vision, you don’t know what do.
His expression is full to the brim with feelings you’ve never seen. He steps aside with his head ducked down.
“Come in,”
“Ah.. right,”
You take your shoes off and place them in the slippers meant for you - they fit you just right, and it can’t be a coincidence. Your heart swells up a little as you take your coat off, hanging it on the rack. You can feel his eyes as they linger on your silhouette.
“So -,”
Before you can get a word out, you feel strong arms wrapped around your waist. His scruff brushes against the skin of your neck as he holds you tightly too him. The warmth of his breath lingers on your neck - and he hiccups, a sob stored in his rib cages let out with a howl. The tears blur your vision too. You can feel his drip onto your shoulder as you snivel into his neck. Your legs feel weak, but he holds you up at the door - the only thing keeping you standing.
You cling around him tightly, your nails digging into the meat of his shoulders. It’s him, your soulmate, Katsuki Bakugo. He’s real and holding you - and he smells like leather and sugar and a fireplace. He’s warm and strong and overwhelming and your crying into his shoulder with so much feeling you don’t know what to do. You hit him weakly, unsure of what do with yourself and he laughs.
“Damn you, shitty woman - makin’ me fucking cry,” but his voice is strained. It’s like something connected, how you feel each other so intimately in that moment. Not only because you’re soulmates, but because you love each other so deeply. Your heart feels heavy.
When you pull away, you manage to give him a warbly smile.
Your hands cradle his face - so handsome and wonderful. You lean forward, emboldened, and peck him. He melts into your touch like he’d been waiting for this moment his whole life. It makes you grin.
Maybe you don’t realize that he had.
He’d been waiting for you all this time.
#bakugou x reader#bakugo x you#bnha x reader#bnha x you#bnha imagines#bakugou imagine#bakugou imagines#PLEASE SHOW UP IM BEGGING
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Hey y’all.
It’s been a while. Just wanted to give you all an update in case anyone was worried or whatever since it’s been pretty quiet here lately!
TLDR: I’m thriving and living my best life, but I just don’t have the interest/time/energy to run this blog the way I used to. All asks currently in my inbox will be deleted, and there is no guarantee that future asks will be answered - but I will leave my inbox open. This blog isn’t going anywhere - you’re welcome to reblog anything from my archives!
If you’re reading this and you want juicy details and sordid affairs, you’ll be sorely disappointed. Consider this just, like, an open letter to anyone who cared about me and this blog personally.
I hope you’re doing well! As I said above the read more I’m doing very well - I’ve graduated college, I’m going to graduate school to do research in my special interest, and I have wonderful friends who love and support me. I’ve started medication that’s immensely improved my mental health and stability, and I’m happy with where I’m going in life. I recently got my permanent disability parking placard and a new custom mobility aid which is very exciting for me since it will reduce my pain and hopefully increase my spoons to do things I love like hiking and art!
That said, I stepped away from active use of this blog for quite some time, and while not wholly the reason I’ve stepped away, there were a few incidents that’s have…not necessarily ruined self shipping for me, not at all, but they did put a bad taste in my mouth. I just want to get it off my chest, y’know? The people involved in these incidents were either rightfully upset that I overstepped a boundary or well meaning but confused individuals - I bear them no ill will and I hope they’re as happy and fulfilled in life as they can be.
The first incident was fully my mistake - I reblogged what was meant to be a personal post intended for mutuals only to this blog under the impression that it was self ship related. Unfortunately, with how many people follow this blog and the fact that it was in my queue and posted after I had fallen asleep, it wasn’t until the next day that I realized my mistake. The OP was understandably upset - both that a personal post had so many notification and that it was being treated as self ship material. I apologized, deleted the reblog, and contacted as many blogs as I could who had reblogged the post asking them to delete their reblog, but it was still a very stressful situation that further increased my existing reluctance to interact with other self ship blogs.
The second incident was a case of mistaken identity. I originally made this blog kind of out of spite - a self ship blog with a similar url had at the time been revealed to be run by a queerphobe. I, being queer, made a blog with a similar url sort of as a ‘fuck you’ to a blog I had previously enjoyed visiting for self ship content. Unfortunately, picking a similar url resulted in at least one person mistaking me for the queerphobic self ship blog. They made a vague call out post and tagged me in it - so I was able to reach out to them and explain the situation before that post reached very far at all. They were very apologetic and while I appreciate that, it did stress me out that other people might see my url and associate my blog with the bigot who ran a blog with a similar url. I have a strong aversion to changing my blog urls/themes/etc. (the autism is strong in me) so I never had the heart to change my url in spite of this potential recurring issue.
At the time of the second incident I had just barely gotten back into actively running this blog, and it just felt like the straw that broke the camel’s back. So I stepped back for quite a while - as you can see from last year’s annual pride month reblog haha - and I have fallen out of public self shipping personally. As a result I just do not have the motivation or the investment to continue posting self ship content - and I struggled for a long time to decide that it’s just too much for me, for something I don’t know I’ll ever feel the same about again.
I want to thank you - I’m assuming, if you’re still reading, you’ve been here a while and knew me when I posted actively in the community. I figured out that I was a lesbian here - that I was transgender and didn’t have a pronoun preference - and you were nothing but supportive and welcoming. Thank you for all the good memories - the ask games, the writing prompts, the positivity and the community you shared - I will not forget the good times I had here. And I hope you have some good memories of my time here to remember me by.
It’s been wild y’all. This is Beans signing off for the last time. Don’t forget - your f/o loves you 💙
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fit by my side {Machine Gun Kelly}
@bitchylittleredhead said: Okay I hear your MGK x pastel!reader and I raise you MGK x Mother Nature!reader. Hella plants, strong love for animals, heckin soft, v kind, mom friend, sunshine child. (I just really really love soft paired with him, it’s so damn cute) also I love you I hope you are well 🧡
Also This Concept
A/N: 3177 words. Gender Neutral Reader (they/them) ! im worried kells is OOC. also there’s no smut but it does get M rated, but there’s no genitals specified. gets quite sappy at times. also @url-under-construction i hope u like it and i hope its good.
----
When you meet Colson, he’s famous, but he’s not, you know, famous famous. You meet on the set of The Dirt; he’s one of the stars, you’re a production assistant and stand-in when they need it, and you don’t think for a second that he’ll even remember your name when this is all over.
But he does; in rehearsals, you’re the one reading the lines for the characters they haven’t cast yet, and the first time the four main cast members see you, in your floaty, floral top, and your gentle aura, and then to hear you say, with absolute sincerity, ‘your mom’s a cunt’, it has them bursting out laughing. You smile, sweet and kind, and you step gently through the blocking that has the character you’re currently standing in for, stabbing Tommy - Colson - with a pen.
Maybe the juxtaposition of you taking part in this whole production is what intrigues him.
When filming starts, you’re still around, and something about seeing you, amid this performance of debauchery, and yet you’re still sincere and gentle, your choice of attire making you stick out like a sore thumb amid the leather and grime. At first, he tries to play it off, that you look somewhat out of place and it’s eye-catching, but you bring the cast food and water and whatever they need, you go on coffee runs, and take a genuine interest in each of them, and by the time he realises that his mood lifts every time he walks on set and sees you there, he knows he can’t play it off as you catching his eye for completely platonic reasons.
He asks you out the week after Casie leaves from visiting set, having seen you interact with her, entertain her while Colson was in hair, treating her with just as much kindness and respect as you did everyone else on the production. It convinces him that your intentions are true, and he knows that he can’t finish this production without shooting his shot.
By the time the wrap party comes around, you’re calling him your boyfriend, at first tentative, looking to him for confirmation, but then you see the way he beams at how the words sound when you say them, and you grow more confident each time you say it.
It’s met with... confusion.
Really?
It seems no-one saw that coming - if anyone, I would have expected Douglas - you hear, and frown.
“What does that mean?” You ask; a frown is rare to see on your face, but you’re wearing it anyhow, and the woman your speaking to splutters her way around a sentence as she’s trying to backpeddle.
“I just- I mean, well, Kells - Colson - he’s so... Doulgas just seems more... refined? Not that Colson not, you know- you’re just -”
“I’m just what?” You ask, not accusing, more curious than anything else, and the woman’s voice dies in her throat as she looks you over; pale blue jeans and a pastel, patterned button-down that would have looked right at home in the eighties.
“I’m just concerned for you,” she eventually says, laying her hand on yours like she’s trying to do you a favour, “Colson’s intense, I’m just worried you’ll get hurt.” You see what she’s trying to say, but her tone is so painfully condescending.
“I’m an adult,” you tell her, tone understanding but firm, “and I appreciate your concern, but I promise I can take care of myself.”
The moment you can get out of the conversation, you find Colson, talking animatedly to one of the makeup artists, and you slot yourself into the space by his side. Automatically, without even stopping the conversation, he wraps his arm around you and pulls you close, and you gratefully take the moment to press your face against him, wrapping your arms around him without saying a word. It’s both strangely intimate and familiar, his thumb rubbing small circles against your side.
As he stops talking, there’s a lull, and you don’t have to look up to know the makeup artist is giving you both a strange look.
“Ignore me,” your voice is muffled against him, using one hand as if to waive off any last bits of hesitation.
“They’re fine,” Colson assured, tapping you on the hip. He’s still oozing casual confidence
You’ve been together for almost half of filming, which isn’t exactly a short amount of time, but usually you try and keep things professional on set, so it’s nice to be able to be close to him in public.
The rest of the cast know, of course, you’ve been out with them on several occasions, and they all have come to adore you just as much as you adore them. Something about hearing Daniel drunkenly assure you that if Colson ever hurts you, that there’d be a line of people ready to slap some sense into him. You try to brush him off, endeared by his drunken affection, but he turns suddenly to the rest of the cast.
“Hey, hey, hey - who’d throw down for Y/N?” He asks; without hesitation, Douglas, Iwan, and Colson raise their hands, eyes wide and alert, as if the offer needed to be acted upon immediately. The show of support has your heart swelling in your chest.
You find yourself fitting into his life back in LA easily; while beginning work as an assistant on a Netflix original series, you call into his house in the Hollywood Hills, delighted to be privy to demos and snippets from his next album.
And you meet his friends, shake their hands and smile and chatter with them. They’re not sure what to make of you at first, no-one really is when you present yourself in conjunction with Colson, but soon they start to see what he sees in you. It’s endearingly genuine and thoughtful and honest and enthusiastic and -
“They’re like sunshine,” it’s Rook’s Instagram live, almost six months into your relationship with Colson, that really cements it to the public. Rook is smoking in Colson’s living room in the middle of the afternoon between recording sessions, and someone asked what your deal was.
“I’m so sick of - and I know Kells is, and Y/N too, not that they’d ever say anything. ‘ve never heard them say a bad word ‘bout anyone, you know,” Rook hits the blunt again, his face scrunching up, “but everyone ‘round here’s so fuckin’ sick of people talkin’ shit ‘bout ‘em. For real, Y/N is sunshine, nicer than all of you motherfuckers put together,” and he laughs, but it’s clear he isn’t entirely joking, “- you know what?” He asked, eyes lighting up and standing abruptly, grabbing the phone.
“Baze, man, you seen Y/N?” He calls, and Baze responds from somewhere off-camera that you’re outside. The comments are going off, but he pays them no mind, heading out to the backyard, only to see you by the back fence, peering over into the trees, on your tip toes, one hand straining over the fence, in shorts and a singlet in sunshine yellow.
Rook calls your name.
You shush him loudly, and then, without looking at him, slowly wave him over.
As he approaches, he can hear the telltale sound of a bird chirping, and as soon as he gets close, he hears you whisper -
“I think they’re bluebirds,” you murmur, and finally look back at him, lowering yourself, surprised to see his phone held aloft. He tells you he’s live streaming, you wave awkwardly, which is when he sees the slice of banana you’re holding, “I’m not sure what they eat; do bluebirds eat banana?” You ask, a little helpless, looking at Rook, and then to his phone.
After a moment, you step aside, and gesture for Rook to take a look over the fence, and sure enough there’s a nest with a single, rather sad looking bluebird with it’s wing bent at a strange angle, calling out pathetically, obscuring a few eggs, just out of arm’s reach. While he’s looking over the fence, also trying to reach them, and also trying to get the phone close enough to see if anyone watching the livestream could identify the bird or offer any suggestion, he hears your footsteps retreating.
“Stay there, I’m going to get Kells,” you call out to him, voice bright, “he’s got long arms!” And Rook bursts out laughing; you weren’t wrong.
While waiting, he sits against the fence and answers a few more questions, until he looks up and sees you, expression concerned, and Colson uncharacteristically fond as he lets you lead him by the hand.
You show him the nest and ask for him to get it, worried the bird was hurt, and he obligingly reaches over the back fence to gently collect the bird nest, trying his best not to jostle the bird. The bird’s wing appeared to be broken, and Rook ends the live when you mention that you’re going to take the bird to the vet.
Already, the fandom is exploding from what had transpired.
People are making suggestions as to what the birds should be named, people are claiming your caring and sweet personality is completely fake, people in the live managed to screenshot Colson’s expression as you’d lead him to the birds, how smitten he was with his hand in yours, and have started posting ‘get u a man who looks at u like kells looks at y/n’ all over twitter and tumblr.
“Bird update!” Several hours later, Colson posts a series of videos to his instagram story, “for those of y’all who don’t know, Y/N found a bird with a broken wing in a tree out the back of my place, we rescued it and it’s eggs, and took it to the vet,” and with that he flips the camera around, from a close up on his face, to show a large, cardboard box in the corner of the room.
Peep Davidson was written in large, black letters on the side of the box.
The rest of the videos are outlining what the vet had told you all, and that the bird should only take about seven days to heal before you could put them all back into the wilderness.
At that, he pauses.
“You worried about putting the birds back when you saw that cat the other day?” And he angles the camera to reveal you, laying with your head in his lap.
“The orange one?” You ask, voice heavy, as if he’d disturbed you when you’d been right about to fall asleep. You yawn, and he confirms, you give a little, lazy shrug and smile, “not sure where that cat is.”
“Fuckin’ hell, babe,” Colson laughs, “you gotta stop finding random animals in my backyard.”
“They find me,” you counter, and shift so you can press your face against his belly, humming contentedly as his free hand begins stroking your back.
“Snow White-Cinderella-Pied Piper motherfucker,” how that is somehow the softest, most gentle words to ever leave his lips, is utterly baffling, but there’s so much love and adoration but you turn enough for the camera to catch your delighted little smile, “you’re-” he starts, “who’s that dude from that, that My Hero shit we were watching the other night?”
“Koji Koda, you weeb,” you tease him fondly, knowing exactly who he’s referring to, and that’s where the video ends.
That’s the day it’s confirmed for the rest of the world. There’s countless paparazzi photos, and hints, and speculation, but this is the first time he’d called you anything but your name, and they’d all seen you snuggling up to him, your head in his lap.
This also is the day the trend begins on his Instagram story of a photo of you, usually in his backyard, with whatever animal had decided to befriend you that day.
My partner. My backyard. No fucking idea who’s animal that is.
And he still goes out and gets fucked up, and sometimes you’re there, and sometimes you’re not. When you’re out together, it still doesn’t quite make sense; he’s hard partying and over the top, and it seems like it wouldn’t be your scene at all.
But then there’s photos of Colson and a few of his friends standing on the edge of a roof, announcing that they’re Kings, and you’re by his side, smiling and waving at the person taking the photograph. He manages to get himself injured pulling a stunt at a friend’s house party, but you’re in the back of some influencer’s vlog, straddling his lap with tissues in your hand, him holding you secure as you clean up the scrape on his forehead; it’s kind of sickening how in love he looks, as he watches the way you concentrate. When you notice his expression, your own softens, and you lean in to give him a kiss.
And so you start to make sense, but people still ask why.
So when asked, you tell people that you support each other, and challenge each other, and yeah, that’s absolutely why you’re together, but it’s not the whole reason as to why you make sense.
Because no-one sees the way you hook your finger into his belt loop at the back of his pants at the house party, and you press a kiss between his shoulder blades, and he knows exactly what that means. He’s quick to make some flimsy excuse to leave as you step into place by his side, which everyone he’s speaking to immediately sees through. You play at being flustered, tucking your embarrassed expression against him as he slings his arm around your shoulders, and calls an Uber.
The drive back to his place has you both on edge with anticipation, his hands all over you in the back of the car while you try to hold a civil conversation with the driver. It’s killing you not to give in, but you know it’s worth it.
“You’re such an idiot!” You announced, grinning from ear to ear the moment you get into the house, before the door’s even closed, and he slams it shut to press you against it. Kissing him feels like a cathartic release, but after a moment you shove him back, loudly admonishing him for taking part of a stunt that got him hurt.
“You could have been seriously hurt!” You keep poking him in the chest to punctuate your words, and he steps back each time, expression alight, pupils blown wide. He keeps reaching out, as if to touch you, to snag your clothes, like it’s a game when you smack his hand back every time.
“Got a gnarly cut though,” he pointed out, as his ass hits the kitchen island. His legs open, making space for you, and you step into it.
“Gnarly cut,” you murmur, tone surprisingly derisive, and you reach up to push his hair back from his forehead. His head tips back, leaning into your touch, the look on his face almost dreamy even as you’ve got a hand on his hips, pushing him back on the counter.
Then you’re in his lap on the counter, hand fisted in his hair, lips on his neck, leaving bruises and bite marks. He’s trying to get you naked, efficient and desperate, but the moment he gets your shirt off, you push the fruit bowl behind him onto the floor, and push him back against the granite countertop.
“You were worried about me,” he smirks up at you, admiring you with your hands planted either side of his head.
“Because you don’t worry about your damn self!”
“Ooh, breaking out damn tonight? Must be serious,” he teased, deliberately riling you up; he loved this side of you just as much as the sweetness. Instead of responding, you reach up under his shirt and rake your nails harshly down his chest and stomach, delighting in the way he arched up at the sudden sensation, eyes falling closed.
With one hand still flat against his belly, the other comes up to cup his jaw, gentle at first, before your fingers move to caress his throat, and you press yourself against him.
“If you get yourself killed, I’ll kick your ass,” you whisper, lips inches from his as you press firmer against his throat. He grins, and sighs, the sound content and syrupy and so fucking into it, leaning up, to meet your lips with his, to feel the pressure on his neck just a little more.
And you bite, and you scratch, and you ride him on the kitchen island. The location is new, but the situation isn’t; once he’d discovered the righteous, sexual fury you’d been bottling up, he’d been more than happy to let you unleash it on him. Not to say that he didn’t give as good as he got; there’s been several times he’s had you swearing a blue streak, seeing stars, desperate and blissed out in equal measure.
But then there’s your dominant moments, the mean streak, and the teasing, the sting of your nails and your teeth and the way you push him around, into the mattress, against the wall without hesitation, and that he covets. No-one else is allowed to see you like that. To be tied up or blindfolded or or punished or pushed around, at your mercy, it’s as close to Heaven as he’s ever felt on Earth, because he knows without a shadow of a doubt that your heart is kind, that you’d never really hurt him in a way he wouldn’t like.
You make him feel safe.
And it’s not just the sex, you’re never dismissive of ideas or suggestions, seemingly always ready to help if he ever needs it, rather than judgmental. It makes him want to be there for you too.
He wants to be better for you.
Which is kind of terrifying to consider.
“I love you,” he tells you in the shower, in the afterglow, soft, pausing where he had been washing your back where you couldn’t reach. It wasn’t the first time he’d said it, but he felt like he needed you to hear them.
“Love you too,” you say around a yawn, though the words are as genuine as they’d always been coming from you, and you lean back against him, leaning your head against his cheek in a moment of quiet intimacy. You try to kiss him like this, but turns your face directly into the shower, and end up spluttering and breaking the moment.
Colson chuckles softly, stepping back and pulling you with him, out of the stream of water and into his arms so he could kiss you properly. You’re still giggling as you’re wiping the water from your eyes, looking at him with fond adoration. When you settle your arms around him, you quiet down and bask in the moment, his forehead coming to rest against yours, warm and safe in his embrace, sensing that, in that moment, he felt the exact same way.
#mgk#machine gun kelly#mgk x reader#machine gun kelly x reader#machine gun kelly imagine#mgk imagine#colson baker#colson baker imagine#colson baker x reader#the dirt#the dirt cast#the dirt cast imagine#rook xx#douglas booth#daniel webber#iwan rheon#the angry lizard writes
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Okay, let's do something else. What if mercs found out that Y/N doubts themself? Like the way they look or what they do. Or they notice they aren't really confident with their work anymore.
(Oh ho ho did somebody not check URLs and determine reblogs from original posts? ~)
[I tease. But for you, yes, I'll do it anyway]
Scout: You could never really see it from the outside unless you knew what to look for, but Scout is very insecure. About his masculinity, about his capability at work, about his ability to even have a friend. To find out someone close to him - one person who he legitimately cares about and openly cares about him - to realise they doubt themselves and feel insecure too sometimes actually takes a weight off his shoulders. Even someone as amazing and wonderful as you could feel insecure or doubtful.
He spends his entire day, mid-fight or not, just chatting to you about what it is he finds hard to believe in himself with, and what you find hard to believe in yourself for, and you both get the silent solidarity of knowing someone understands - and will always be there for you.
Soldier: Soldier is confused at first. It didn't make sense to him. Someone as awesome as you? Feeling like they weren't amazing? But that's wrong! You are amazing! More amazing than a bald eagle flying through fireworks on a glorious American summer day! Who lied to you about how amazing you are? They will get a rocket to the face! And then a fist to their face! If any of their face is left!
You explain to him that it's just yourself, some memories here and there warping the perception you have of yourself so you could never really "see" yourself from the outside. So you assume the worst. He nods - he gets that, now - and he decides that whenever you seem down, he will start telling you exactly how he percieves you - every wonderful, glorious, blessed part of what he sees.
Pyro: Pyro sits you down at their tea party, gently placing a paper hat on your head before sitting down opposite you. They don't talk to balloonicorn or ask you to play, like they normally would, but instead they wait - watching you. They place their hands in their lap, and you can feel their hidden eyes looking directly at you. After a while, if you say nothing, they bring out a box - a box full of art supplies. They draw a picture of you - of your face - and then draw an "evil" version of you (its just you with huge black streaks under your eyes, greyer skin, and a big black cloak). They then point at you, give a thumbs up, then point at the evil version and shake their head.
They let you keep their drawings, and also promise you to draw a whole lot more, because they want to remind you that no matter what you don't believe in yourself for - no matter what you think you did wrong or what you're beating yourself up over - you do not try to have bad intentions, you are not a truly evil/bad person, and you are someone they - and the entire team - trust and care about. They will remind you about it every second of every day if they must.
Heavy: Heavy does not say anything at first - he quietly walks over to a table, sits down, and pulls out a chair for you to sit. If you do not take it, he trusts you to know your limits. You can sort yourself out, or come to him, whenever you need to. The choice is yours. If you do sit with him ... he quietly asks you what is wrong. He then waits for a reply - and if you deflect he will simply shake his head or say "no." If you want more of a reply, tell him. Tell him what makes you upset, what you doubt in yourself. He's listening to you for a reason.
Heavy will place a hand on your back [nearly covering all of it], and will tell you that "You are strong. You see Heavy's muscles - I can lift many thing - but you are best kind of strong. Strong in heart. It is a strong that Heavy had to learn - is not easy. Yet you are strong, you keep going. You are best kind of strong - keep doing your best. Is not easy, fighting inside mind is hard. But you make it this far already, da? No point giving in to the lies of your mind now. Keep being strong - if gives Heavy something to look up to. And he will always - always help however you need."
Engineer: Engie stops what he's doing, smiling softly and kindly, as you walk past him after he finds out about how you're feeling. He saw you earlier, when he was busy with something else, and he realised just what was going on with you. Now, later, he put down his wrench and his work outfit, and gently called out your name, asking you to come talk with him, please. He will keep politely prodding you to talk to him until you actually talk to him - or at least someone else - about how you're doing. If/when you come to him, he will be relatively quiet, but still brimming with his politeness and southern hospitality.
He'll softly ask what seems to have you down - he may know you're upset, but he would like to hear why from you, not just assuming. After you tell him what it is, no matter what it is, he'll nod softly, tapping his gloved hand against the bench or wall he's closest to. He'll talk about how your insecurities don't define you, how you're a wonderful person, someone he's glad he met here, and how no matter what you may think you're like, the team knows you. He knows you. And if you where half as bad as you thought, they'd tell you. You're a good person - and good is more than enough.
Demo: He's the second most outright, besides soldier. He'll ask you straight up if anything is wrong, what he can do. He has a very serious expression on his face, but it softens when you quietly tell him it's to do with self-esteem and doubting yourself. He'll pull you in for a strong, warm hug [if you don't like hugs he'll simply pat your back or nudge you gently with his shoulder]. He's going to comfort you for the rest of the day - just gently pampering you so you know how much he loves and respects you.
If you're not feeling better by that night, he'll have a serious - but not harsh - talk with you about how/why you're feeling like that, and discussing how he relates and can help, or anecdotes that put the situation in new light so its easier to care for yourself. It's the best way he knows how to offer comfort and advice - and for you, its less trouble than taking a breath to him.
Sniper: Sniper is his usual self - that is to say, quiet and socially anxious. He'd much rather just using a letter or a phone call to try and talk about issues. Seeing your face, watching you possibly cry, it's too much for him. He can't. But after half a day or so of knowing you're off about something, it becomes too unbearable and he has to help or he'll explode, he bets. He quietly slips you a note, or walks past you and murmers just loud enough to hear - either way, he asks you to visit him at his camper after the match.
Once you're there, he offers to help you get up on the roof - where you find a pile of pillows and blankets and a citronella candle. He lights the candle and invites you down to stargaze with him, watching the desert sky - and while he doesn't have to look you in the eye, he begins to tell you how important you are, how he's always so starstruck by the things you do, how sometimes he wishes he was more like you. After he feels the blood rush to his cheeks, he stops talking and hides his face, clearing his throat before suggesting you both go back to stargazing.
Medic: Medic would comment to you that he knows something is off - he won't stop what he's doing, he'll just keep up his schedule whilst he casually encourages you to tell him. The moment you let up - and he will not stop pestering you until you do - he will scoff at the notion and tell you that you're wrong. Just straight up saying that you're very clearly not as bad as you think, and anyone can see that. It's obvious you're an amazing, attractive, intelligent and skilled person. He's seen literally every part of you, inside and out! He should know! If you're still insecure about it, though ... he'll sit down, stop working [for once] and he'll talk with you about it.
He may occasionally be brash, or not mince words when commenting on what you say, but he genuinely means it from a place of goodwill. If anyone else ever said the things you thought about yourself, he wouldn't hesitate to correct them and fight them if they kept being an asshole. He has to remind himself that is you saying this, and not you repeating what someone else said. Once he's gone through it with you, counterpointing your issues with yourself until you had no more you could think of, he smiles softly and asks if you'd like to feed Archimedes with him. He'd be happy to let two of his favourite living creatures interact - and hopefully it would let him dote on both of you at once.
Spy: Spy stiffens slightly at the idea of talking to you. He knows he should, that it would make things easier, but ... he has a habit of running from difficult scenarios. Even basic consoling is strange and "dangerous" to him. However ... you're important to him. You're a good person, and he wants to stop running ... what better way to start sticking with things than comforting you?
He's awkward, at best. He, for once, doesn't know what to say. He offers you something you like - be it a drink he's seen you go out of your way to buy, a food item, a trinket - just something to break the ice. If you're willing to talk more than 3 words, then he'll relax a little, and occasionally the two of you will switch between talking about ... anything. Anything that could take your mind off of doubts and bring more to light the good parts of you - god knows theres more of those in you than in him. It ends up being quite cathatic, and he suggests doing it more. No matter what you decide, he understands - and he's happy he could "help" any way he could.
#tf2#tf2 spy#tf2 sniper#tf2 medic#tf2 soldier#tf2 scout#tf2 pyro#tf2 demo#tf2 heavy#tf2 engineer#ask#request#tf2 x reader#god damn if yall want more of this or whatever tell me and I'll make a side-blog#hot damm
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if you know, you know.
——— a response to those who refuse to move on.
EDIT: after some encouragement and realizing that, while i tried to be respectful and private about this situation, i was not given the same treatment, i’ve decided to be upfront and filterless. here is a link to my page of receipts that i did not provide in this post.
i would like to point out that when i made the DNI, it was buried and sandwiched in my super long rules purposely so that it wasn’t explicitly visible and drawing attention. it was specifically put there for mutuals to understand my boundaries for the new blog, and as soon as i moved blogs, my guidelines underwent heavy reconstruction and the DNI section was removed overall ( i don’t like DNIs for myself ), as well as on this blog. all statements made in the DNI were what i felt to be true and based off of not only my experiences, but others’ as well, backed up with evidence i have saved that i didn’t feel the need to provide because it wasn’t meant to be a big deal, but i also felt i needed to explain why this person was on a DNI and that it wasn’t done out of malicious intent. again, if something sounds bad it is because “bad” things were done and i can’t control that.
reading the call-out had me ( and others ) confused on where it was i had bullied her, when i had her blocked since november, where it was i had manipulated her, and so forth. i’m always wanting to be a better person, so i was extremely confused on where i had done anything wrong. i also didn’t appreciate my new blog url being attached to it as it had nothing to do with it and i was trying to move forward, and it read very much like an attempt to blacklist. despite everything, i never wanted it to be a spectacle. the pinned, public call-out by this person doesn’t read to me as someone wanting to move on, but wanting to drag things further. this is not a call-out post, this is me defending myself. i will not name drop. if you know who this is about, i ask you just read this to understand the full story.
this is going to be a long boi ( i really tried to keep it short but alkfjdklfksldf nope ). i would also like to apologize for any dryness here, but i am aiming to just state facts as they are. it feels ---- ridiculous writing this all out because it’s something that could and should have been handled privately. but, here we go !!
everything on the DNI is true. i will not post or reveal the sources because one, they are not my stories to tell, and two, i am not going to give her the excuse to bother them. they deserve to be safe, and i am walking proof of what happens when you speak out against someone like her. if i have to bear that burden, then so be it.
it stopped being about “just a url” a long time ago. it became more about how i was treated in that interaction, and how i was continued to be treated afterwards. not to mention the increasing tension within the rpc and having to second-guess whether or not i was truly wanted. it was about how it was affecting those around me, my time in a hobby i love, and my mental health. the amount of times a mutual has tagged me by accident when they meant to tag her is insane. it most definitely did not feel good !!! if that kept happening, it was a problem. i also had to shut off the anon feature because of the amount of anons i was receiving. some had good intentions, but others had resorted to hate.
regarding the messages on discord --- i stand by them. i thought if you were friends with someone on discord and have previously talked over time, it was okay to message, otherwise what was the point of discord? i didn't realize it would make her uncomfortable to do so, and i’m more careful about how i approach people now !!!
regarding the messages: there was no change in tone other than that i grew exhausted and extremely anxious ( shaking !!! palms sweaty !!! knees weak !!!! mom’s spaghetti !!! ) and wasn’t in the proper mindset to sound happy while i was being invalidated to my face. i have even apologized there if i came off as mean. i don’t “present myself” in a way. that’s just how i talk, i prefer communicating one-on-one and i try to alleviate tension that arises no matter what because these types of conversations aren’t always a walk in the park. i wanted things to be good and not stressful for all parties involved. i’m sorry my tone came off as insincere. after being in desc rpc for a year, i was a little surprised seeing a near-identical url so i think it was fair for me to message her about it. she made the decision use it, and i was allowed to react. it was said misspellings in urls made her anxious so i wanted to help and i was shot down and vilified, essentially told i made her feel unsafe and shouldn’t have messaged. if it wasn’t okay to claim i felt “unsafe” and “paranoid”, why was it okay for her to claim the same based on a choice she made herself, but not me to feel anxious about those choices?
i have never told a blog to block her. i have never initiated conversation about her, nor have i spoken negatively about her as a person. ever. i have, in fact, even stated that i didn’t want anyone blocking and that it would be okay to interact. here’s one example after i was approached about her. i cannot control what other people do.
hardblocking her on my end was to avoid seeing her on dash as much as possible.
i am allowed to softblock / unfollow people who interact with her after months of trying to be okay with it. what kickstarted this process was someone i thought was a close friend had dropped me and suddenly i realized i didn’t need to sacrifice my comfort for the sake of keeping a mutual. if they could do it, so could i. while i adore the descendants rpc, the rpc is not a family, we’re not obligated to interact IC or be mutuals with every single person in the rpc. it’s not causing a rift when we don’t interact on dash. i have even emphasized that i would love to stay in contact via discord and write there if possible !! why am i being vilified for trying to make my blog a safe space for me?
regarding the “vagues”: they were all responses. a mutual wrote the post, i reblogged it, my tags were in response to the post ( said mutual’s url wasn’t even blocked out so ... ). if it felt like a vague, i can’t control that. the meaning behind the url post was circulating on dash, i didn’t see any vaguing in it other than me recounting my process of choosing this url, which was true ( was i not allowed to participate?? ). the shrek meme was in response to a public dash event ( which i originally thought was a joke ) that had received copious amounts of criticism for. it wasn’t a vague and it was explicit on what it was referring to, it was meant to be silly dash commentary, nothing deep.
this is in my rules but i have explicitly stated that my headcanons about my characters are not a vague if they differ from yours. the talk about hair styles was actually initiated in a conversation with my friends in private. it had absolutely nothing to do with her. if it sounded like a drag, i encourage everyone to look at how i’ve “dragged” many other things including the original outfits for descendants, evie thinking mermaid dresses are ugly, evie not liking wine, and so forth. my portrayal of evie =/= other portrayals of evie. while she may never do so-and-so, it doesn’t make it wrong for another portrayal to do it. ( why was my blog being kept tabs on and compared with, in the first place? that’s not duplicate friendly ).
regarding sex week: i've stated it was an inappropriate event because the descendants rpc had been heavily criticized for smutting and felt it wasn't the best response, nor was it the best way to promote sex positivity. it was insanely uncomfortable to witness, as someone in this rpc. it doesn’t matter if the people or the muses involved were adults, i would still call it inappropriate had it happened in any other rpc. it wasn’t a “block and move on” situation. i’m also allowed to defend myself because i didn’t want to be associated with something she posted. i didn’t want it tied to my url. i would like to clarify that when i said "embarrassing" in the responses under that anon, it was directed at the anon for misreading the url, nobody else. ostracizing occurred when the descendants rpc was being added to DNIs because of sex week / smutting, which was posted by this person ( if you post it, you start it. simple ). i had been blocked simply because i am a descendants blog and that had never happened before.
i was also notified that people uninvolved with this have been namedropping me on dash in an attempt to have me “written off” ( their words, not mine ) because my rules stated that i was open to exploring evie’s sexuality. below is a screenshot of my rule regarding smut. i deleted the rules page from this blog when i moved so i snatched it from my other canon descendants blog that i reuse on all blogs. the second is my elaboration on sexual content in my new evie rules. the third is what’s on my google doc, a condensed version of my rules. there is a major difference between smutting and posting a public dash event dedicated to sex versus being open to explore sexuality as a topic. they are not the same. also, me not choosing to smut does not dictate my opinion on smut, so do not make assumptions about that either. if you want to move on, why are you still talking about me on dash, especially when unprompted? if you just want to move on, why are you upset that i’m not “written off”?
this person has vagued me multiple times ( which they conveniently did not show in the call-out ), this person has been shown to talk badly of me in private ( and now, publicly as well ) ---- all of which i have not done. i have screenshots sent by others to show for it, but do not feel it’s relevant to share because this is not about her. this is just about defending myself.
i have spent three months apologizing for feeling things, apologizing for reacting, apologizing for things i should not have been apologizing for. i have spent so long accepting blame because i felt it would help. i’m done doing that. i know what i did and what i didn’t do. people know what i did and didn’t do.
all in all, i am confused on why a call-out was made when the content provides nothing other than catty remarks meant to air out personal drama. the messages exchanged only show how i tried to remedy things. the screenshots of my “vagues” were just responses, and most of which had nothing to do with this person. my initial silly dash commentary and later discomfort over a sexual dash event posted by this person is not a vague.
if you ( referring to maker of the call-out and others who partook ) are upset about people not talking about me in regards to the “rest of the call-out”, maybe consider the fact that there was nothing about me in it that warranted a call-out in the first place. people saw that i did nothing wrong. the only thing of substance in the call-out was something the maker themselves did : the public, sexual dash event. people are allowed to identify that as a more prominent issue as opposed to how my messages or public posts could be perceived through basic, biased narrative manipulation.
me deciding to unfollow / softblock blogs that interact with this person =/= involving the descendants rpc or making it public. i am allowed to softblock whoever i want to cultivate my dash experience. most people i know have it in their rules that they are okay with people softblocking for their comfort and that it won’t be taken personally. you know what IS making it public and involving the entire descendants rpc? this person messaging a descendants server and name dropping me in the server, reducing the situation to just being about a “url” and publicly announcing it in the server. here are the facts to consider: her message was sent jan. 21. my DNI went up feb 2.
so, regarding the call-out: there was no bullying, no manipulation, no harassment, no gaslighting, nothing from my end, and the call-out shows precisely that the claims are just that: claims. whatever was felt is valid, but feelings =/= gravity of the actual action itself - the most common thing pointed out in therapy: feelings are valid, but are they justified? call-outs should be reserved for people who cause actual harm, not because someone wants an excuse to blacklist. if i am a “bully” for unfollowing blogs for my own comfort, then i think the rpc really needs to reevaluate what these terms mean because the misuse is harmful.
here are the things i did do: treated everyone i talked to with respect. approached things civilly. communicated. tried to accommodate for others. attempted to make a safe space for myself. did not involve the entire rpc by announcing it in a server. did not make a call-out post nor pin it. did not continue to name drop afterwards despite claiming to want to move on.
this entire situation is absurd and should have never been public, much less made a call-out for !! while this was meant to defend myself and state facts, i understand it may not change minds. a friend has told me that people will hate me because they want to hate me, no matter what. and i can’t do anything about that !! all i have to say is that holding hate in your heart never ends well. i hope everyone can find peace at some point.
so please, let me move on. let me write with my friends. let me unfollow / softblock people to keep my dash comfortable. let me take a break from descendants while also having the choice to return at anytime. please stop talking about me when i’m not even giving this another thought and haven’t since i moved blogs. please stop name dropping. stop keeping tabs on me, stop stalking my new blog. please leave me alone. i hold absolutely nothing against anyone i may have softblocked / unfollowed or am not currently interacting with on my new blog. my IMS / discord is always available, you will not be violating my safety by messaging me, everyone is welcome, but i also understand if you feel the need to separate yourself !!! as for those of you who have interacted with the call-out post, i wish you the best but i hope you understand why i do not want to interact with you by any means in the future.
i’m hoping this post lays everything to rest, seeing as my first one did not. honestly, what are you trying to prove if you still have to post about this? it helps nobody. this back-and-forth is exhausting and unneeded. no more. let’s be better people, yeah?
i hope everyone takes care of themselves, i hope you all have a great day / night !!! thank you for reading this long boi !!
#this is a long boi.#thank u to everyone who's offered their support these past few days!#i refuse to let people push me out with baseless claims !!!#so here are all the facts#i really don't want to talk about this anymore but if u need proof of the things this person has done u can msg me#otherwise. this ends here.#pls don't reblog!
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Check-In Tag
I was tagged by @calcifer-rose and @marculees to do this tag. Thank you🥺💞💞
1. why did you choose your url?
Kachu is my nickname and "-lein" is a German diminutive to make it sound cuter since kachu by itself was already taken.
2. any side blogs?
Yes! I have quite a few but the only one that I actively check up on/post on at the moment is my astrology blog @dreamyaqua ...and even there I have been quite inactive due to studying for exams.
3. how long have you been on tumblr?
Since December 2012 :')))
4. do you have a q tag?
Yes! I mainly use my "q: daydreaming💫" tag but I also have one for sleeping (that I keep forgetting to use) and I kind of replaced my "busy busy" queue tag with the daydreaming one as well. Rarely, I might temporarily make a new one with "sick/ill" or something to kind of also explain why I might be inactive/not replying to messages.
5. why did you start your blog in the first place?
I'm actually not sure... I made a tumblr but didn't use it for a few years because it was too confusing to me. Then in 2014/2015 I used it here and there to reblog emo posts and then in 2016 I started getting into the kpop side of tumblr and became gradually more active (only really started interacting with people after starting my writing side blog in 2018, though).
6. why did you choose your icon/pfp?
Because it fits my current blog aesthetic/colour theme and Yeonjun is one of my ult biases.
7. why did you choose your header?
Pretty much the same applies to my header as well. Yes, I'm a sucker for Yeonjun. c:
8. what’s your post with the most notes?
Oof...on main, I really don't know. I've made my fair share of kpop meme posts that garnered >1k notes but I couldn't say which one of those is number one. But my most popular post overall is a Bang Chan blurb I wrote on my (now mostly inactive) sideblog @fluffyheadcanons that counts >2.1k notes as of now.
9. how many mutuals do you have?
I used to keep track of them in a little booklet so that I didn't forget anyone (especially with tag games, checking up on them, and also to update their url changes) because I had >100 mutuals. I've lost touch with most of them and a lot of them aren't active on tumblr anymore, so now I keep a small circle of lovely moots with some that I've been friends with for years and others I've met in the past year!^-^ 💞💞
10. how many followers do you have?
It keeps fluctuating but it's around 1.5k~
11. how many people do you follow?
About 271 as of now~
12. have you ever made a shitpost?
Ever? You mean, all the time? Yes, that sounds more like it. :')
13. how often do you use tumblr each day?
Hmm...some days more, some days less. I probably pop in at least once a day (most of the time) but I'm not as crazily active as I was in the earlier days (I literally lived on here ok😭).
14. did you ever have a fight/argument with another blog?
Hm... not a fight per se... but there were a few instances.
1) Back in 2019 I believe, I got an anon ask saying that one of my mutuals was talking shit about me on their blog and they asked me whether we had a fight (we didn't). So I went and messaged said mutual and asked what this is about and whether I've done something to upset them. They never replied and also unfollowed me and all, so to this day, I still have no idea what the heck happened.
2) I had a similar situation with a second mutual as well, there wasn't an anon involved but I just suddenly realized that they unfollowed me on every social media we connected on and same as above, to this day, I still have no idea what I did wrong/whether I did something to upset them.
3) I won't go into much detail here because what happened is very personal but this mutual was one of my first friends here on tumblr and they were without a doubt the person I talked to the most. We had similar struggles and could relate to each other well. Then there was a personal issue and I confronted them about it... I wasn't mad but I just wanted to know the truth because I don't like being lied to... but they never replied to me and it marked the end of our friendship. This one is the hardest for me to get over because we weren't just mutuals, we were so much closer than that. More than anything, I just miss them and think it's sad how we went from talking all day every day to being strangers. But life goes on...
15. how do you feel about ‘you need to reblog this’ posts?
Depending on what it is about they make me a bit uncomfortable. I know that those posts who threaten you are all about superstitions but it still scares me/I don't wanna risk anything y'know😔
16. do you like tag games?
Yes!! I really love these type of games, so moots or anyone who's reading this, feel free to tag me in games, I'm always up for doing them! And I don't mind getting spammed either, it just means more fun games for me!^-^
17. do you like ask games?
Yes, I love them! But I don't want to annoy people so I haven't reblogged one in ages ^^"
18. which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?
Hmm... I'd say Qiu (@stealerz) and Key (@key201303)!!🥺💞💞
19. do you have a crush on a mutual?
I'll join Niamh here and say squishes! I do have those on my moots because you're all so precious and ily!!!👉🏻👈🏻🥺
20. tags?
@jsczclpjs @jellihye @stealerz @key201303 @interstellix @oddlittlefandomist @marriael @jbemin and anyone else who'd like to do it!~💞💞
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GET TO KNOW ME TAG GAME
Before I start I would just like to say (tw alcohol for now and question 19) sorry for any spelling mistakes or if I ramble a little. To cut a long fuckin story short I mis read the measurements of my shot glasses and so instead of having two cocktails I’ve had the equivalent of four in the space of an hour and a half. Being british, im not gonna let a good drink go to waste either so im onto my third/sixth now.
Tagged by @clints-lucky-arrow (an actual goddess among us mortals)
1. Why did you choose your URL?
So this reason is two-fold. One, I didn’t watch star wars growing up because I was dumb and didn’t understand the politics (it wasn’t until my boyfriend sat me down and explained it literally in January of this year that I actually got it) but I loved Sci-fi and space so the next best thing was Treasure Planet (2003 film, Available on didney+) My favourite scene is the ending when Long John Silver (spoilers) is about leave before he can be arrested and Jim confronts him. Seeing how much his character has grown, Silver says to Jim, “Look at you, glowing like a silver fire. You’re something special, Jim. You’re gonna rattle the stars, you are.” It literally makes me tear up every single time I watch it and its one of my favourite lines of all time. Second, this was actually quoted in one of my favourite book series ‘Throne of glass’ by Sarah J Maas. I adore the character of Celeana and again one of my favourite quotes from TOG is when Queen Elena says to Celeana“ You could rattle the stars. You could do anything, if only you dared.” Every time I read that line I literally get chills and I actually have plans to get this tattooed on me lmao
2. Any side blogs?
Yes my fanfic blog @second-stars-totheright (I like puns and I used to love peter pan)
3. How long have you been on tumblr?
I joined when I was 13 for the fanfiction and lurked for a very long time, just reblogging and liking things until I deleted it when I was 17. Re downloaded the app and got my account back back around February of this year (when I was 19, now 20) and since then I’ve found it much friendlier and actually interacted with people this time around, and actually started posting my work on here!
4. Do you have a queueue tag?
No. This is my general postings blog so I just kind of stick anything funny or worth keeping here, but I probably should make one!
5. Why did you start your blog in the first place?
As I said to read fanfiction (anyone wondering it was 5 seconds of summer fanfiction. Anyone who judges me in the comments its fair game 🥺) but I re-downloaded it this year because I noticed with my work on Wattpad, while I had some do really well (one has gotten 130k+ views) its very difficult to actually interact with readers and get feedback. I’ve only accumulated that high of a number after 5 years of it being on there, and so tumblr is just so much more personal!
6. Why did you choose your icon/pfp?
I did it this morning as I was getting tagged in this lmao. I wanted a cartoon girl who looked like me but because I had a specific colouring (ie my hair is black with a blonde streak at the front & my eyes have both blue and green segments because I have heterochromia) I couldn’t find any that looked like me so I recoloured a cartoon girl I found on pinterest.
7. Why did you choose you header?
The white clouds fit the stars theme and it looks pretty with the purple. ✨💜
8. Whats your post with the most notes?
“That girl is a problem | Javier Pena x Agent!Reader part 1” with 105 notes on my fanfic blog.
9. How many mutuals do you have?
I am still a little tumblr idiot when it comes to this so if someone could tell me how to find out I'll edit this
10. How many followers do you have?
72 on here, 107 on my fanfic blog (AND I LOVE ALL OF YOU ACROSS BOTH OF THEM MWAH, MWAH KISSES FOR YOU ALL 💜💜💜)
11. How many people do you follow?
165 (it was 700+ but the other day I unfollowed a bunch of accounts that haven’t been active since I followed them when I was 13. There were LOTS)
12. Have you ever made a shit post?
I mean all you have to do is look at the Nomad memes I make (UNAPOLOGETICALLY I might add 😤) for @clints-lucky-arrow to know I absolutely have. That series has a hold over me im telling you. I black out when I start reading and I awake with a bunch of meme editing apps open and my feelings tugged at from her amazing writing.
13. How often do you use Tumblr each day?
If I’m with my boyfriend which is like two days a week, rarely, but now I’ve finished uni, I’m on here all the god damn time. I feel so comfy and safe interacting with you all, not to mention some of you guys are funny as hell.
14. Did you have a fight with a blog once?
Not really on here, I haven’t received any hate luckily but I prefer not to spoil how comfy I am here with arguing.
15. How do you feel about ‘you need to re-blog this’ posts?
I’m a little confused by this I dunno whether I’ve just never come across any like this or if Stars is being a bimbo on the tl again. However, I only reblog things I’d like to keep for future reference or if something deserves to be shared to everyone else like a fic rec or a piece of art. (As Mack said, I’ve re-blogged so many in the past promising me money or luck and I am still broke as shit so what does that tell you).
16. Do you like tag games?
Yes!! I love reading everyone elses and getting to know my mutals better!
17. Do you like ask games?
Again yesss because it means I get to send love to my mutuals and get to know them better! I tend to not participate though just read their responses because I sometimes feel like I’m bugging people clogging their inboxes even though I know that’s the point idk I’m a hell of an over thinker sometimes 🥳
18. Which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?
It’s been said before but @clints-lucky-arrow (wow you rlly owning this post bby girl) but I just remember lurking on Nomad early February and liking and reblogging her chapters so I could keep them to re-read cause that’s how much I instantly loved it and when she followed me I realised who she was and lowkey had a starstruck moment bcus id been ciaght up in her work for weeks and too nervous to make contact. Also @arduadastra, I saw her work all over the pedro tags for so long and now I’ve gotten to know her she is the sweetest girl!! We usually fan over Javier Pena gifs together, she’s solely responsible for ‘That girl is a problem’ bcus of her gif sending at 1am giving me Javi thots and now it’s my most successful one on my blog. And most recently @pedrosgirlx followed me this morning and her work is genuinely some of the best I've seen on here, as I said this morning it is the Sistine Chapel ceiling of Mando art it is actually jaw dropping!! I cant believe all these creators are rlly giving us this content for free and yet being so talented AND the nicest people I’ve ever met!!
19. Do you have a crush on a mutual?
No, although I hold a lot of them dearly as friends. 15/10 would treat you lovelies to a drink of your choice if we ever met (any of you from the uk who drink I’d get you a pitcher from Whetherspoons)
20. Absolutely no pressure tags:
anyone who wants to join! a lot of people I would have tagged have already posted theirs so go for it if you like the look of it!
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bye bye 2020, hello 2021 !!
happy new year everyone!! there’s a lot of people i want to thank for making last year so much more bearable so i tried writing some messages for some of my dearest mutuals this year as well!! (keyword tried because i absolutely cannot put my feelings and thoughts into words. i love you all though and thank you so so so much!!!)
@angelhyunjin : angi!! i know you’re not on here anymore (actually i just found out . i ran to twt to find u as quick as i could!!) but it felt weird not?? putting you on here because you WERE a big part of my year!! i was always excited to chat with you and i rlly rlly loved (still do) seeing your art and your dance covers i can’t believe how talented at both you are!! you are really really lovely and even if it’s been a while i hope you know i still think of you and hope you’re doing well!! this year might have been hard but i hope 2021 will be much nicer to you because you definitely deserve it!! i love you!!
@cinanamon : stephie!! i think we haven’t talked in a while until we started suddenly bonding over minho but all is well that ends well because now we are the founders of a minho cult and that’s all i could hope for in life i think! we don’t talk that much but seeing your tags in all the minho posts is always a TIME i absolutely love reading them! thank you for being there to lose it over minho, always, but also for being there in general! you are really sweet and i do love to talk to u!! i also know you are a really good writer so i hope 2021 brings you lots of inspiration to write more!! (and i’ll finally catch up on your fics too! hehe) happy new year!!
@cocogoat : puppy !! i think we haven’t been friends for long actually and that sounds fake because that would mean there was a time i didn’t instinctively check your blog when i woke up in the morning (or the evening let’s be real)?? you are so! adorable and for what!!!!!! i really do love seeing you pop up in my phone notifs and reading your posts even if i dont have any idea what they’re saying half of the time unless it’s dgrp (i cannot believe i have a dgrp friend now. amazing i think i won) u are so funny and so cute and i’m really glad i got to know you because!! you’re such a nice friend that i! love! times can be hard but i hope 2021 is gentle with you because that is! what! you deserve! gentle pats and tight hugs! (maybe that’s why i associate ab6ix’s heaven with you it’s the gentle vibes) <3
@glossiers : miss bri i am in love w u that’s it. no i’m kidding that’s not it i have much more to say . i am in lov w u though #brillie2k21 i think. i think it’s been a surprisingly short time since we’ve actually started talking?? which is kinda crazy if u ask me because?? how the hell did i live my life without screaming BRIIIII whenever i see u on the dash like for real how . that sounds like a life so empty like. that would rlly be missing . something?? anyways u are a dear dear friend that i really really love and i’m sure you know that but i will keep saying it anyway! i’m sure i’m pretty annoying so thanks for putting up with me! and for talking to me! i feel like i’ve said it before but! you are a delight to see on the dash and i lovlovlov talking to u (and sending u pics of my cats, thank u for appreciating them). i still cannot believe u managed to convince yourself i was a hyeongjun stan though. hope i can be convincing enough to clear that up and leave no doubts in your brain this year. anyways i love you and i hope we can continue to be friends and talk even MORE this year!!!!!! happy new year ilu <3
@hwacinth : miss dia my sweet sweet floral nymph real life shirayuki and queen of urls! i am? so so so so so glad that we are friends you literally have my heart it is YOURS i can’t even try to claim it back!! you literally are shirayuki i don’t even know how to elaborate i think it’s just self-explanatory but you are just. such a sweet little sunshine!! it’s like you bring spring everywhere you go!! we could be in a middle of a metaphorical storm but when you appear the skies clear up and flowers bloom wherever you step and i cannot help but smile when i see you online!! thank you so so much for being my little ray of sunshine in these tough times! i hope to see even more of your posts this year!! don’t hesitate to live blog anything you watch in my dms if you feel like you’re posting too much (but i hope you never feel that way because you’re not . love seeing u live post it is absolutely amazing i won’t ever get tired of it)!! happy new year and i love you!! ps only 1 more hour until your birthday HAPPY BIRTHDAY DIA ILUUU <3 I HOPE YOU CAN HAVE A WONDERFUL ONE!! IM SENDING YOU CAKE TELEPATHICALLY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
@hwisgf : sorinaaaa! happy new year!! we don’t talk that much but it is always nice seeing you around! you are vv sweet and i really appreciate that, thank you for taking the time to talk to me sometimes!! you are also probably my only fantasy mutual?? which is terrible on one side because i think everyone should stan sf9 but that’s besides the point . i really do love the fact that i at least have u to talk to abt sf9 if need and i LOVE seeing u in love with hwi it is absolutely amazing. i am forever grateful for all the free hwi pics days too!! <3 i hope 2021 can be a year full of happiness for you!! (also that is also besides the point but @ fnc i want an sf9 cb announcement) ILY!! (and so does hwi)
@inkigayeo : miss vivi galaxy brain happy new year!! we only started talking recently but u do have my heart already!! i hope this year treats you well and that we can get to know each other more and be friends hehe!!!! <3 (my other wish is for u to stop breaking my heart with those fake titles. please . why should san NOT come back explain yourself .)
@jeongcheols : mimi . mimi mimi mimi im literally typing this as u are listening to that ten n dj stage ok now it’s kai ok anyways . ANYWAYS i am loving your sm concert live commentary . criminal is sounding amazing taemin is insane indeed (yes i took a break before coming back to writing this) i truly don’t know what to say?? n i have to keep watching the time so that i can scream HAPPY NEW YEAR into the mic in 14 minutes. but like?? i love you?? like. like for real i don’t know what i would’ve done without you?? also it’s weird writing this for tumblr instead of just in your messages (also i can’t focus with idea playing. idea soty). and i mean. you technically know all of this but like?? i can’t believe we’ve known each other for so long but also such a short time at the same time like. what. thank you for being my bestestest friend and my soulmat i don’t think i would’ve been able to remain sane this year (and last year too honestly) if it wasn’t for you?? thank you for always listening to my incoherent rants and i’m always so sorry for spamming you while you’re asleep i know you must wake up to like 150+ messages with absolutely no connection between them and they’re all just so random i truly don’t know how you manage to not get annoyed and to just stay with me all this time i’m- getting emotional. you had a terrible year, i know it! i really do!! and while it might not be looking too bright right now, i hope the universe hears me and treats you much better in 2021 because!! you deserve so much more!! you deserve the world, really!!! i love you!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (i would write more really but like what is there to say literally i’m just (your emoji)) i love you for real;;
@nakyngs : ele <3 happy new year!!!!!! we haven’t talked much this year but i do think of u a lot daily i hope you know that!! and i love u a lot! even if i still need to catch up on all your aus </3 i hope 2021 can be a fun and stress-free year for you!! and we should catch up sometime too!! ps i hope your fish are ok
@ncityzen : dear spring fairy!! i already sent you a new year’s message earlier today like what. 6 hours ago but! once again!! i really do hope you can leave the hard times behind in 2020 and only get the best things possible this new year!! i’m always very happy to see you appear on my dash and curious to see your life updates and your random literature-related mini-rants in the tags they are always very interesting to see!! so! hoping to see even more of that this year <3 i hope you know that i love you and i really care about you!!
@woojjongs : MISS IRI! i am screaming this very loud so hopefully u can hear me all the way in canada! okay i had to leave this one for last because i?? don’t really know how to start i’m just a pink glittery puddle with lil hearts flowing in it that is how i feel towards u right now . how does one think and how does one write down their thoughts coherently give me a second. this is going to be a mess maybe u shouldn’t read it (‘accidentally’ forgets to tag u). just know that i decided to play txt’s wishlist to write this and u might be confused by that but all u need to know is that it means i love you very much. OKAY so miss iri you are . such a wonderful pal i truly don’t know what i would’ve done without you like . it would feel so weird not seeing you around tumblr would be so so so so empty i don’t even think you can begin to imagine how empty i’d feel without you around here ksdjbskbds i absolutely adore you but we already knew that. i’m always super excited to see your gifsets and your nonsense!! be it your love for woojong or u missing lim jimin (play m.. 🔪) or your snoo brainrot or hating literally anyone on smtm or whatever else it might be i love it all!! you are so cute and adorable and talented and sweet and funny i cannot believe you also happen to be the prettiest person on earth too. how does that feel! anyways i love you so so so so so much? i keep telling you to hold back from committing crimes but i absolutely WOULD commit a crime for u i really do adore you!! i mean . how many groups did u make me stan . (ok actually i don’t think there’s that many. but STILL) i know i can be super annoying but thank u for taking the time to chat with me nonetheless!! i’m all over the place but . there’s times i come online literally just to check your blog nothing else! i hope we can continue to be friends this year too n perhaps talk more (or the same amount idk please tell me off when i’m too annoying)!! happy new year, i hope it holds wonderful things in store for u!!!!!! and we really are starting off great since victon comeback is approaching <3 (this got way too long i’m so sorry i’ll cut it off now before i write 10 pages)
@xiaocity : miss siya hello hello hello first of all i’m just so very glad that you’re back i l o v e you!!! i love seeing you around be it your gifs or your text posts which yes. i cannot properly understand half of the time but google is my best friend after all! you’re such a wonderful person and i’m just?? really glad to have you around like?? you feel kind of like a cousin i don’t always get to see but am always excited to talk to when i can? this might not make sense but. you are vvv cool and talented and funny and feel very like. reliable? i feel like i am not making any sense so like ignore me. what i’m saying is i really really like you a whole lot and i really hope we can talk even more in 2021!! happy new year, i hope it’s a wonderful one for you!!
@yunwoo : miss anna we haven’t been moots for that long and we haven’t talked much but u are vvv cute and i hope we can become (better) pals this year!! i’m looking forward to seeing u on the dash more often, hopefully!! happy new year <3
#happy new year everyone i love you all;;;; thank you again!! hope 2021 treats you all nicely!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#there's like a few mutuals i rlly do appreciate but didn't really have much to say to/abt because we haven't really . talked#i really do love all of you though!!!!!!!!!!;;;;;
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MY URL
@zulikbuka Our post was getting a bit long and the topic was diverging so I started a new thread to answer you question:
I also just realized your URL is a line Genos' says in the amnesia OVA episode, right? The line right before he kills the mountain spirit or something?
You are correct!
The OVAs in OPM can be a bit spotty for sure but that one is my favorite.
Not only did I think that quote was pretty cool but the whole episode has (and the quote itself) has a couple degrees of personal significance to me. Around the time I first started this side blog I made a few posts about that OVA. (I’m sure they’re still floating around here somewhere if you wanted to see them)
There are a lot of raw emotions in that for me, the frustration, fear, confusion, not having a solid sense of self, even while being aware of facts about your identity. I specifically like that’s he’s constantly, almost unconsciously just trying things, copying what he sees and reads to try to find some essence of how he should be in the world. But when he does things that we’ve seen from experience just aren’t really ‘him’ he get’s depressed and the conflict he’s experiencing really shows.
“Something inside of me isn’t right...”
Even with all that conflict the topic were handled with humor. Like this frame:
“I just got a feeling something fun is going to happen if I do this.”
That is just funny to me and I really liked that moment because it kind of gave me an impression that there are things about being a Cyborg that Genos genuinely enjoys. It’s not just a sacrifice to become stronger.
I also really liked this OVA because we got to see a different dynamic to Saitama and Genos’ relationship.
“No way I would ever become”
“the disciple of a guy whose face I could draw in 20 seconds!”
“It’s like he’s not quite tuned in. He’s a bit unstable.” -Saitama
And also, having forgotten his connection to Saitama and while being in an unstable state, Saitama gets to look out for Genos a bit for a change.
I’ve also always hated the idea that Genos made an irreversible mistake by becoming a cyborg. It’s actually an argument I’ve seen a lot and even Genos questions if he’ll ever be able to be as strong and he wants to be as a Cybrog with the limitations of his physical components. I liked that in this OVA he fought against a Monster that embodies a ‘Nature’ Spirit who is coming to destroy humanity for laying waste to the ‘natural order of things’ (which is a logical fallacy by the way). The Monster even calls him an abomination because of who he is, explicitly because he’s a Cyborg. In his fear, having forgotten who he truly is, Genos almost loses against a Tiger level monster.
Until the moment he remembers who he is, the people who matter to him, and then Genos is able to re-direct all the rage that Monster is directing towards him with the perfect calm and clarity he’s iconic for.
“I will get rid of your anger for you.”
That’s the type of self-assuredness and overcoming I’d like to see more from Genos in the future. And that’s the type of personal clarity I’d like for my own life as well.
So, while as a URL it’s a bit extra, it’s long, it’s hard to read, etc. It has a lot of meaning for me.
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Tagged by @stupidusernamepolicy lets go
1. Why did you choose your url?
because of the classic tale of '11 year old wants to be a youtuber' and at the time I wanted a name that wouldn't lock me into one specific thing, so an explosion of medias, thus mediasploshion
2. Any side blogs?
@media-burns-deponia
@rp-the-elysians
@organon-bailiff
now aside from my deponia stuff
@medias-oc-vault aesthetic blog i rarely use for my ocs
@randomspritemaker dead sprite blog
and a few more but im gonna let them stay dead
3. How long have you been on tumblr?
my archive goes as far back as 2014 so sometime then
4. Do you have a queue tag?
nope, I just reblog as I feel
5. Why did you start your blog in the first place?
to like jelsa art
6. Why did you choose your icon?
made it in class for photoshop lessons and I liked it, so yeah
7. Why did you choose your header?
aesthetic
8. What’s your post with the most notes?
probably one of my deponia meme collections
9. How many mutuals do you have?
a good chunk, don't ask for a number
10. How many followers do you have?
583
11. How many people do you follow?
351
12. Have you ever made a shitpost?
honestly if you've used tumblr as long as I have, I'd be very surprised if you never shitposted before
13. How much do you use tumblr every day?
on average, anywhere between 2-4 hours a day honestly, just scrolling on the app throughout the day
14. Did you have a fight/ argument with other blog once? Who won?
I can remember two instances, one vaguely and one more concise. The first one being someone was getting an anon that was basically mocking them, so I started sending asks too basically yelling at the anon through that person's blog. I can't remember what the anon first said but I remember they tried saying they were a headmate of mine and that confused me because I didn't know what that meant at the time. But the person saw we had different IP addresses so obvious lie. Then we moved to my blog and the dude said he respected me, weird.
The second time, a friend didn't like how the newest homestuck album at the time treated their favorite character so they made a post basically saying that. The person who organized the album responded and I saw so much wrong with their response that I stepped into the argument.
15. How do you feel about “you need to reblog this” posts?
like ok I get it, and I'll reblog some from time to time, but I'm not gonna do every single one I see because it just gets kinda exhausting after a while and I don't want to exhaust people that follow me
16. Do you like tag games?
absolutely, though sometimes I do end up forgetting about them if I don't do them right away. whoops
17. Do you like ask games?
again absolutely, too bad no one ever wants to shoot me an ask
18. Which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?
uhhhhhhh tumblr famous? I can think of a few that might be fandom famous, but idk about tumblr famous
19. Do you have a crush on a mutual?
HA, you think I can get crushes on living people, cute
20. Tags?
@space-merman @bi-llcipher @insufferableoracle @shinakazami1 and that should do it, have fun
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Stuck in the Middle [C.H. & L.H. AU] Part 1
**DISCLAIMER: This is NOT a poly!Cake fic!! Just wanted to clarify that in case of any confusion.
Summary: Calum Hood and Sloane Thorne are engaged to be married--though, not because they were in love. More so that it was a part of the merger their families’ companies were going through, as a way of strengthening the bond and building a foundation for the partnership Calum and Sloane would have as co-CEOs. So when the opportunity arises for them to get away from the pressures of their families and relax for on the beach in Florida with their friends, they’re quick to go. Except Calum falls for their neighbor, River Young, while Sloane discovers pent up feelings she never knew she had for her long time friend, Luke Hemmings. Trying to figure out how to navigate through unexpectedly budding relationships while also getting rid of the strain on their friendship seems to be how Calum and Sloane have to spend their little vacation. Whatever it takes to not be so stuck anymore.
IMPORTANT A/N: So I originally uploaded the entire 41,800+ words of this fic in this very post, but it wasn’t opening for some people and it was crashing the app because of its length. So I kept the first half of this one shot in this post, and the second half is uploaded in another one that I will link at the start of this part and the bottom too. I hope you enjoy this monster of a fic. But Luke and Calum are my brand (hence my URL) and I wanted to do this fic justice. I hope you enjoy. Happy reading!!
This is Sloane’s face claim.
This is River’s face claim.
Read Part 2 Here!
The roar of waves crashing against the shore was silenced by the glass separating Calum from the ocean, the white sand in between a smooth carpet creating a pathway. He watched the water recede before rushing back once again, glittering in a purplish-orange hue under the setting sun, but Calum could still feel his skin warming at the mere sight of the sun above them, slowly descending, before begging to be submerged in the coolness of the water. The waves colliding with the shore was muted, replaced by the sound of his friends roaming the beach house, finding rooms to settle in, and making plans as they unpacked. His own luggage was near the bed, waiting to be unloaded, and Calum swept his gaze over the ocean in the distance one last time before turning around with a sigh.
His actions were slow, leisurely opening up his suitcases and pulling out his things to put away. The nap he’d taken on the near three hour flight from New York to Florida had only seemed to tire him out more, but Calum knew his exhaustion came not from lack of sleep, but because of how busy and overwhelming life had suddenly become. The knowledge of a hectic schedule soon becoming a new normal for him sank heavily in Calum’s bones, and while he thought he was ready for the responsibilities that came with soon becoming the CEO of his parents’ multi-million dollar company, Calum knew he wasn’t ready for the additional arrangement that came with it.
As he put away a few shirts on hangers into the closet, a knock sounded on the white door of the bedroom, and he stepped out of the closet, glancing to his right to see Sloane lingering by the doorway. The first thing he noticed—the first thing anyone noticed, really, upon looking at Sloane—where her bright blue eyes, which stood out against her olive skin tone and dark hair. She looked at him, almost hesitant, with an apologetic smile tilting at her lips. “Hey, sorry, uh, just wanted to let you know we’re heading to the beach in, like, an hour. Right after sunset.”
For a moment, all Calum could do was take in the nervous energy radiating from Sloane, and he felt a prickle of guilt shoot through him. They were friends, had been for years despite college keeping them in different states, and to see her appear so small in front of him when she was one of the most confident people when she wanted to be felt wrong. There were occasions Calum had seen Sloane shrink into herself; because of him had never been one he wanted to see.
So he nodded, hoping his tone didn’t come off as edgy as it had lately. “Okay, thanks.” His dark eyes then dropped lower, taking in the way she was wringing her fingers, noticing the rings she wore and the lack of one. He couldn’t help the slight upwards tilt of his lips. “You’re not wearing the ring.”
It was an honest observation, one he found truthfully amusing as Sloane’s own gaze dropped to her hand. Fortunately, she picked up on his subtle humorous tone. “Yeah, no, uh—” Sloane cut off with a gentle chuckle, blue eyes meeting brown. “Our parents aren’t here so, you know, I’m not gonna put it on.” Her throat worked as she asked cautiously, “You’re good with that, right?” She knew he was, but her need for double checking spoke for her consideration of others as well as her precision in other matters Calum knew would come in handy.
His small smile widened with half of a laugh, eyebrows raising in amusement as he went back to the bed to grab more clothes. He told her in all honesty, “I’ve got nothin’ against it, Sloane.”
If she didn’t want to wear the diamond ring his parents picked out to signify their engagement—their arranged engagement—while they were on their vacation, away from the prying eyes of both of their parents, investors, the works, then that was fine with Calum. He didn’t blame her for it. Kind of encouraged it, actually. As he picked up some folded sweats and brought them over to the dresser, Calum added lowly as an afterthought, “We’re free until we’re not.”
It was a reminder, not that Sloane needed one, he knew, of their agreement before they’d come to Florida: that there would be no mention of the engagement, of the impending wedding, impending merging of their companies. It was a topic that neither of them were too keen on discussing, and if they could spend their time in Florida ignoring a situation they knew would be right there, waiting for them, when they got back to New York, then that’s how they’d deal with it.
He heard Sloane let out a slow breath through her nose. “Fair enough,” was all she said before giving the door frame a departing tap and walking down the hall, leaving Calum alone with his thoughts and items still needing to be put away.
*****
The crackle of the fire was a soothing comfort over the waves dancing just a little ways away. Of course, the sounds of nature were drowned out by the music playing through Ashton’s speakers, though the smooth tones of Dan and Shay weren’t ones Sloane could argue against. So she sat on her blanket spread upon the sand, her now empty can of black cherry flavored White Claw discarded beside her as she contently ate the s’more she’d just made. The air was a mixture of smoke, salt, and marshmallows and it was a combination Sloane found herself surprisingly fond of, covering her mouth as she laughed, given the food she was chewing, at Michael’s expense when his marshmallow caught on fire, which only prompted him to yell in despair.
“Mind if I join you?”
Sloane had to crane her neck to look up at the man completely towering over her, feeling a smile tug at her lips at the sight of Luke. “Only if you make me another s’more.” She hadn’t meant for her words to sound flirtatious, feeling a warmth in her cheeks that had nothing to do with the fire, yet Luke didn’t seem to mind.
Instead, he let out a soft chuckle as he said, “Deal,” before settling himself down. Sloane watched as he adjusted his long legs, crossing them as he sat next to her on her blanket with a satisfied sigh as they sat shoulder to shoulder. Well, her eyeline was at his shoulder. The blonde of his curls were glowing against the orange fire, blue eyes half a shade darker than her own glimmering against the flames as he reached for the items sitting between Sloane’s blanket and Michael and Crystal’s. “How d’you like your marshmallow?”
“Golden.” Kind of like your hair.
Luke nodded as he stuck the treat at the end of the stick. He shot her a boyish smirk. “That’s the only way to like ’em,” he hummed approvingly, shuffling just a bit forward to allow the marshmallow to roast over the fire. As Sloane reached up to push some hair behind her ear, Luke’s gaze went to her hand and he smirked lightly. “Trouble in paradise already?”
Sloane dropped her hand with a breathy groan, knowing he was talking about the lack of the diamond ring on her finger as he chuckled quietly. “There can’t be trouble if there’s no paradise,” she reminded him, resting her hands on her knees before adding pointedly, “Which I’m fine with, by the way.”
Luke gave a shake of his head, glancing at the marshmallow to make sure he didn’t burn it. When his blue eyes met Sloane’s once more, he added in a dismayed tone, “Can’t believe your parents are forcing you guys to get married. Like—” He frowned, shaking his head once more. “That shit’s nothing to be taken lightly. It’s not some business deal.”
She felt something sink in her chest, her smile small and dejected as she reminded him with a subtle raise of her eyebrows, “Except it is.” Her gaze wandered towards the fire, the heat pleasant against her skin. Vaguely, she heard Ashton challenge Michael to the chubby bunny challenge while Crystal protested because it would only be wasting marshmallows. “They think merging our families would be beneficial to merging the companies. That way everything stays within the circle. It. . .” She sighed. “It makes sense, at the end of the day.”
It was a responsibility that hadn’t been Sloane’s to begin with, but now she had no choice in the matter. With Jacob gone, the family business was hers to take over, and while Sloane knew the ins and outs of the company as well as her brother did—perhaps more, though her parents would never believe it—and was accepting of taking over, she didn’t appreciate being subjected to her personal life being tied with her professional. Marriage should only be between two people who genuinely, wholeheartedly loved each other. Not for business negotiations. Not to play with other people’s lives.
And yet, this was Sloane’s life. And Calum’s.
“You’re more than a business deal, Sloane.”
Her head turned to look at Luke once more, breath hitching in her throat at the earnesty gleaming with the flames in his eyes. The sincerity in his quiet tone was loud in his gaze, enough to send Sloane’s heart unexpectedly into her throat as he looked at her. It was almost too much, the tender way he stared, spoke, and Sloane broke their gaze and looked at the marshmallow, unsure of where her voice had gone as she found herself whispering, “Marshmallow’s done.”
Luke blinked before pulling himself out of whatever reverie they’d lost themselves in for that brief moment, retracting the stick as Sloane tried to keep herself busy by breaking off a piece of Hershey’s chocolate and grabbing two crackers. The two of them worked together in silence, save for every other sound around them, as Luke placed the marshmallow on top of the cracker and chocolate before Sloane sandwiched it with another cracker, allowing Luke to pull the stick away.
“Thanks,” Sloane murmured before adjusting her fingers on the treat and taking a bite. It was warm and sweet, the cracker crunching, and Sloane hummed approvingly. “’S really good,” she chuckled after swallowing, hand covering her mouth just in case any crumbs fell out. That’d be unattractive. Not that she was trying to be attractive in front of Luke. Ridding herself of ridiculous thoughts, she offered the s’more and asked Luke with a teasing grin, “Wanna try your masterpiece?”
He scoffed at her playfulness with a roll of his eyes. “Sweetheart, I know it’s perfection,” Luke joked, though that didn’t stop him from leaning down and taking a bite of the s’more as Sloane held it between her fingers.
Except Luke’s equivalent of a bite was him just taking almost the entire thing in his mouth, and Sloane let out a sound of protest, a mix of an exclaim and laugh, as she pushed him away with her free hand on her shoulder. “You just ate the whole thing!”
Luke laughed as he ate the s’more, leaning away from Sloane’s half-hearted shoves, arms an X over his chest as ended up on his back as she shoved him. She couldn’t help her giggles, not when his loud and infectious laugh drowned out the crackle of fire, roar of waves, the music, and the chatter of their friends. Luke’s laugh was one she found herself preferring over all else. “I’ll make you another one!” he promised, dimples in full view through his grin, sharp features shadowed by the flames as he sat up once more.
Sloane found herself grinning as Luke pulled out another marshmallow, raising her eyebrow as she asked jokingly, “Are you my personal s’more maker for the night?”
Luke shot her a wink, cute and boyish, and she told herself the heat in her cheeks was from the fire, not from him. “For as long as you’ll have me.”
*****
There was a calmness in Calum’s chest as he walked along the shore, the cold water at his feet sending pleasant shivers up his spine. The serenity was present even when he glanced over where his friends sat around the fire in the distance, catching sight of Sloane and Luke sitting side by side, his blonde friend’s laughter ringing through the night and reaching him even over the crashing of foaming waves. Lifting the cigarette, Calum took a drag of it as he looked away from where his friends were. He kind of hated that he picked up on the nasty habit again, but circumstances weighing heavily on him called for a cigarette break every now and then.
Unfortunately, he’d been in the middle of taking a drag when the sudden, unexpected sound of a bark startled him, prompting the smoke to get caught in his throat and Calum’s eyes squeezed shut as the gasp turned into a minor coughing fit. He lifted his arm, coughing into the crook of his elbow, only vaguely hearing a female voice apologize, “Oh, shit, I’m so sorry! Shh, Freddie, it’s okay.”
His throat slightly stung but soon the coughing subsided, and Calum opened his eyes and lowered his arm to catch sight of a German shepherd in front of him, tail wagging and tongue out as he panted excitably. A cute, if not intimidating, dog that Calum still found himself getting excited at the sight of—dogs had that kind of effect on him—as his gaze lifted to look at the girl jogging towards them.
Calum told himself his throat was dry because of the cigarette and not because of this girl; one with blonde hair tied back into a messy ponytail and an apologetic smile upturning her lips. She wore shorts and a tank, a hoodie loosely handing over her shoulders as she came to a stop in front of Calum. His lips were parted, he could tell by the way he was breathing as the cold air tickled the inside of his throat, and he could hear his mind tell him to get it together and stop gaping like an idiot. But the girl in front of him was smiling kind of breathlessly and he, too, was feeling the breath escape him.
“Uh, no, it’s okay,” Calum found himself saying, trying not to cringe at stumbling over his own words as he gave a shake of his head. His lips tilted upwards as he expelled a short breath, wondering about the color of her eyes seeing as it was a bit too dark to tell, before dropping his gaze to the dog. “He’s a cute one.”
As if on cue, the dog—Freddie—barked, taking the few steps towards Calum to sniff at him. Though he couldn’t start at his feet, given the water pooling around his ankles. Calum chuckled as the girl let out an airy laugh, the sound sweet, as she said, “I think that’s Freddie returning the sentiment.”
Calum’s smile melted into a smirk, his eyes meeting hers, noting the light shade of them. With a quirk of his eyebrow and a lift of his chin, Calum questioned boldly, “Does his mom agree?”
She let out a short laugh, impressed or amused by his forwardness, he wasn’t too sure, as she dug her hands in the pockets of her unzipped hoodie. The ocean breeze tickled at Calum’s skin and he watched as loose locks of her blonde hair swayed against her temples. She eyed him for a moment, biting the corner of her grinning lips, Calum’s stomach uncharacteristically flipping as she mused, “She does.” She then pulled her right hand out, her bracelets clinking together as she held it out to him and introduced, “I’m River.”
His hand grasped hers, the touch rivaling the fire crackling in the distance, and Calum wondered if she felt the heat of it too as her gaze briefly dropping to their joined hands as he shook hers before meeting his gaze again. “Calum,” he supplied, remembering to speak before this woman managed to steal his entire thought process. They were slow to release hands, or maybe it was all in Calum’s head as their eyes remained locked, and he found himself telling her, “I’m, uh, staying at that house with my friends for a while,” while gesturing to the beach house Michael’s fiance’s family owned.
River’s gaze flickered past him towards the house, looking at him as she asked in breezy curiosity, “How long’s a while?”
He wondered if he was imagining the alluring tone in which she spoke in, dangerous wonder in her own voice as she gazed up at him with a subtle tilt of her head. He wondered if he was an idiot, utterly ridiculous, for feeling his heart thud in his chest and something else flip around in the pit of his stomach. Wondered if it was okay that none of it felt wrong. Exciting, confusing, unexpected, desirable—but not wrong.
His tongue poked out for a quick swipe of his lower lip, fighting the smirk when he caught River’s eyes trail the movement. She met his gaze again, unapologetic. Finally, Calum answered her, “A month. Maybe more.”
River pursed her lips before smirking, eyebrows cocking upwards. “Sounds promising.”
The cigarette was forgotten between his fingers, the sounds of the waves and his friends drowned out in the presence of the woman in front of him. Calum could feel his heart in his chest. “I’d hope so.”
*****
“Bro, you’re burning the pancakes! Get out!”
Sloane’s eyebrows raised at the sound of Ashton’s yelling, reaching the bottom of the stairs and turning into the kitchen as the smell of burnt pancakes hit her nose. She blinked as she let out a breath with a quiet, “phew”, arriving just in time to see Ashton push away a laughing Luke from the stove. He looked to be enjoying himself despite possibly ruining breakfast for everyone. Through his laughter, Luke exclaimed, “I’m just tryna help!”
Ashton shot him a bemused look, a spatula in hand as he pointed it at Luke while Sloane quietly approached, the amused smile growing on her face as she stopped by the counter separating the kitchen and living room where Crystal sat, watching the whole thing go down. “You’re fucking it up, man—you can’t cook,” Ashton scoffed, turning back to the stove.
Luke huffed, lips pouting as he leaned against the stainless steel fridge, arms crossed, biceps in full view thanks to the tank top he wore. It was in that moment that his eyes landed on Sloane, straightening up his posture as she felt the amused smile tug at her lips. Luke’s own lips parted as he sounded, “Hey, Sloane, uh—good morning.”
Her smile, without her permission really, turned fond as she leaned against the counter where Crystal sat, happily eating her cereal. “Morning, Luke,” Sloane greeted, flashing a smile to Ashton who offered a quick wave over his shoulder. Looking back at Luke, she asked knowingly with a soft chuckle, “How’s breakfast going?”
Before Luke could answer, Ashton scoffed, “He’s banished from the kitchen. Please, take him away.”
The offense was expressed across Luke’s face with an indignant frown as he protested, “Hey!” while both Crystal and Sloane laughed. “Actually, I was gonna go on a quick supply run,” she said, eyes finding Luke’s once more, raising her eyebrows almost hopefully as she asked, “You wanna come with?”
Ashton pouted as he transferred a pancake from the pan to a plate. “What about breakfast?”
Sloane’s lips parted to speak, but Luke beat her to the punch. “Sloane doesn’t eat breakfast.” Her blue eyes met with his, and she could see the hint of pinkness that tinged his cheeks as an almost embarrassed smile quirked at his lips. Sloane didn’t miss the looks exchanged between Ashton and Crystal, though she chose to ignore them in lieu of her own skin warming as Luke pushed himself off the fridge with a clear of his throat. “I’ll just, uh, get my shoes.”
He left the kitchen quickly, but not before walking around Sloane and offering her a cute, boyish smile that she couldn’t help but return before her eyes met Crystal’s. The amused expression the blonde wore wasn’t missed by Sloane, who let out a breath and asked, a bit defensively, “What?”
“Nothing,” Crystal hummed, sounding deceivingly innocent as she stirred her cereal with her spoon. Her smile was teasing and Sloane rolled her lips into her mouth as Crystal observed, “Totally adorable.”
Ashton snickered and Sloane let out a slow breath, shooting Crystal a look. Despite the drumming in her chest and the desire to visibly chew her lips, Sloane kept up the indifferent front before reminding her, “It’s not a thing.”
Crystal puckered her lips with a shrug as she flickered her gaze up to look at Sloane. “It could be.”
Sloane bit the inside of her cheek, her own gaze falling to her hand. Crystal was only putting dangerous ideas in her head that would end in nothing but heartbreak if Sloane decided to stray from what the plan was. Feelings were. . . Not an option. She’d be lying, though, if she said there wasn’t a disappointed, sinking feeling in the pit of her chest at the knowledge of her kind of. . . Never getting to be with someone she wants to be with. A decision about her life made for her without any consideration for what she—what Calum—wanted. They were expected to move forward with this, to change their lives for the benefit of companies their parents had built, which were to become their own soon.
It was her and Calum. It had to be. Neither of them had much of a choice and to allow herself to even think otherwise would be stupid.
Sloane sighed, scratching the back of her head as she looked between Crystal and Ashton, who was eyeing her curiously. With a quick, small smile, Sloane decided, “It’s a bad idea.”
Luke’s voice sounded from behind her, innocent and oblivious as he asked, “What’s a bad idea?”
Ashton and Crystal’s gazes darted past Sloane just as she turned around to look at the towering blonde. He still wore his tank top and athletic shorts, only this time his wallet and phone was in his hand and black Nikes on his feet. Her heart jumped into her throat as he looked at her questioningly, eyebrows raised, and she swallowed before covering with a nervous smile of her own, “You being in the kitchen.” Luke’s expression fell into a childish pout, and Sloane’s nerves eased slightly as she said to Ashton and Crystal, “If you guys have anything you want us to pick up, just text us in the groupchat. Tell the others, too.” She looked at Luke again, who was pouting, and giggled as she turned him around and began pushing him towards the front door. “Come on, let’s go.”
He stubbornly let her push him, exiting the house as Sloane pulled out Calum’s car keys. He’d kindly allowed her to take his Range Rover for the quick supply run, which was good since his car was the last one at the end of the driveway, blocking the rest of the vehicles in. It was a quick drive to the nearest ShopRite after Luke put the address into the GPS, and as soon as they grabbed a cart they began their quest for supplies—most of which were coming in through the groupchat, seeing as everyone was suddenly awake back at the house.
As Sloane put a box of Crystal’s favorite vegan cookies in the already filling cart, she looked at Luke, who was leaning forward against the handle, and asked him, “How’s it feel being almost twenty-three?” Jokingly, she added, “Does your back hurt yet, old man?”
Luke rolled his blue eyes. “Ha-ha, so funny,” he humorlessly scoffed, lips quirking upwards when Sloane giggled as they made their way down the aisle. He lifted a hand to rub at his mouth, scratching his growing facial hair as he pointed out, “Ashton’s the one turning twenty-five. Quarter of a century.”
Sloane shot him a look over her shoulder, quirking an eyebrow. “Hey, I’ll be twenty-five next year.” She turned around fully to face Luke, walking backwards as she challenged the blonde, “Are you calling me old, Luke?”
He stopped, as did Sloane, as his mouth dropped open almost comically. He looked adorably nervous at Sloane’s challenging, playful stare, throat working, before he said, “I’m not qualified to answer that question.”
She narrowed her eyes at him, lips quirking as she sounded, “Mhmm,” before turning to continue on, hearing the rattle of the cart wheels as Luke followed after her.
“Come on, Sloane,” Luke called after her with a laugh. “You’ll always be the prettiest girl I know.”
His words had her stopping short, breath rushing out of her lungs quickly enough to make her choke on absolutely nothing. Her sudden pause had Luke accidentally bumping the front of the shopping cart right into her lower back, nothing painful save for causing Sloane to stumble forward, and he cursed before apologizing quickly. Except it didn’t really register in Sloane’s head, her thoughts more focused on the fact that Luke considered her to be the prettiest girl he knew.
Her heart had considerably picked up its pace; a compliment from Luke wasn’t anything new, except this time it certainly felt like it. This time his words gave an unexpected jolt of her heart, skin warming as she pressed her lips together and absently stared ahead at the meat section of the grocery store. Luke so easily uttered the compliment, not even thinking twice about it, the sincerity behind them effortlessly stealing Sloane’s breath as she tried to regain it. The buzz of the store was lost on her, fighting to bring herself back to reality instead of losing herself in the reverie of Luke’s words. Tried not to let the smile grow on her lips because she didn’t know how Luke was capable of making her smile without even truly trying.
“Sloane? Fuck, I’m sorry for hitting you—are you okay?”
The poor guy was behind her, fretting over accidentally hitting her with the cart when it was her fault for coming to such an abrupt stop. She blinked a couple of times before turning around, Luke now standing straight with a concerned expression on his face as he eyed her carefully. “Yeah, no, I’m good,” she assured him after finding her voice. She wondered if he could notice the pink on her cheeks, wondered if he even knew what he’d said that had her stopping in the first place. Or if it was just a casual, obvious thought in his head that when he voiced it, he didn’t think of it as a big deal. Maybe Sloane was overreacting. She bit her tongue. She needed to get it together.
Luke was about to say something, his broad shoulders relaxing somewhat, when Sloane’s phone began ringing. She sighed at the sight of her mother’s name, offering Luke a small apologetic smile as they began walking once again while she answered, “Hey, Mom.”
“Are you settled in?” Came her mother’s response as a way of greeting.
Sloane suppressed the sigh threatening to escape as she and Luke made their way to the next aisle over. Leave it to her mother to forgo pleasant greetings when it came to talking to her daughter. Nothing new there. “Yeah, we are,” Sloane answered, tapping Luke’s shoulder when she caught sight of the shelves filled with cake mix. To him, she offered a smile, momentarily forgetting about what he’d said just minutes before, telling him, “Hey, Luke, pick your favorite flavor. I’m gonna bake you a cake for your birthday.”
Luke followed her gaze before letting out a laugh, the sound widening Sloane’s smile as dimples appeared on his cheeks before blue eyes took in the several flavors on the shelves. On the phone, Sloane’s mother asked, “You’re with Luke? Where’s Calum?”
“Yeah,” Sloane answered, somewhat absently, as she looked at the boxes as well, trying to spot Ashton’s favorite kind of cake. His birthday was first, and she planned on baking him one as well. It was a fun hobby of Sloane’s, baking, which relaxed her when everything else was getting to be too much. Baking some treats for two of her friends’ birthdays would be nothing short of enjoyable. “Uh, Calum’s at the house.”
Luke’s blue eyes met Sloane’s at the mention of Calum, offering a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, but he broke the gaze as he put a box of triple chocolate fudge cake mix into the cart. “Don’t you think you should be spending time with Calum, Sloane?” came her mother’s question, her disapproving tone not missed by the twenty-four year old. Sloane clenched her jaw as she stopped the box of lemon cake mix and put it in the cart. “You two grew distant while at school so it’d be better if you started spending time together now before the wedding. We’ll be setting a date soon.”
The wave of nausea hit Sloane upon hearing her mother’s statement, free hand gripping the cold metal of the cart as her fingers closed around it tightly. Her expression fell as the force of reality nearly swept her off her feet, neck tensing as she desperately tried to keep the rampant, overwhelmed emotions from showing on her face. But she’d failed, it seemed, as Luke looked at her in quiet concern and curiosity, eyebrows drawing together over widened blue eyes, taking a step towards her. His body towered over hers, and his tall frame provided a kind of comfort Sloane hadn’t expected but realized she needed in this moment.
Luke’s hand rested on the spot where her shoulder met her neck, his touch comforting and warm against her exposed skin thanks to the tank top she wore, and without even meaning to, Sloane felt herself relax somewhat under it. She focused her attention on her mother once again, despite really not wanting to, really just wanting to go about this shopping trip in peace without being thrown in for a crisis. “Okay, yeah, I hear you,” she said, hoping to sound convincing for the sake of ending this conversation.
Her mother clicked her tongue, the sound itself harsh through the crackle of the phone. “Take this seriously, Sloane. The company will be in your hands; start acting like it. This wouldn’t be a problem if your brother—”
“Right, okay, Mom, I get it,” Sloane instantly cut her off in a rush, hating that she felt the familiar subtle sting in her eyes, feeling the primal urge of throwing her phone across the aisle. The last thing she needed was her mom bringing up her late brother and how he would’ve been a far better fit to run the company. But that just wasn’t in their cards, and Sloane could live her life without being constantly told she wouldn’t match up to what Jacob could’ve been capable of had he not died. She’d been grieving her brother a long time; she didn’t need to feel guilt over his death, too. “I, uh, I gotta go. Talk to you later.” She hung up before her mother could get a word in.
She pocketed her phone with a slow exhale, head bowed and eyes shut and completely hating herself for feeling so vulnerable and powerless. Over her life, her emotions—everything. For practically falling apart in the middle of some ShopRite. Soon-to-be heads of multi-million dollar companies didn’t have breakdowns in grocery stores. Sloane knew she was better than this, stronger than this, and took a deep breath as she reminded herself of the fact.
“Sweetheart, you okay?” Sloane opened her eyes, looking down at her painted toes peeking out from her sandals, inhaling softly at the gentle term of endearment that slipped from Luke’s lips. Sloane pressed her lips together in order to keep them from quivering, silent for a few moments to get it together, and Luke let out a soft breath before his arm wrapped around her to pull her in for a hug. Her cheek pressed against his chest, his right arm around her shoulders and left around her back as he held her to him, and Sloane felt herself melt into him and the cologne he wore. Totally beachy.
Sloane closed her eyes for a moment, reveling in Luke’s embrace, the way his arms felt around him and the warmth he provided. She felt herself relax, heart rate calming after the unfortunate conversation with her mother. “Yeah, I’m fine,” she whispered, feeling utterly ridiculous for being so pathetic. “Just tired.”
Luke took a breath, which Sloane felt against his chest, before letting it out in an airy chuckle. “Come on, Sloane. We just got to Florida; can’t get tired already.”
He prompted a soft laugh from Sloane, shaking her head at his attempt at lightening the mood, which seemed to work as she reluctantly pulled away from him, wanting nothing more than to stay with his arms around her. But they were in the middle of a grocery store, had some shopping to get done, and the longer she stayed with Luke hugging her, the more she’d get used to it. And, like she told Crystal and Ashton, that would be a bad idea.
Especially since a wedding date was about to be set.
Sloane pulled away from Luke, hands on his sides to reluctantly create some distance between them as she looked up at the tall blonde. The smile was still present on his face, just a little softer, an ever present glimmer in his blue eyes Sloan had forgotten how fond she was of while she’d been away at school. Her fingers itched with the urge to run through his blonde curls, wanting nothing more than to feel the softness of the strands under her touch.
Instead, Sloane took a step away from Luke, rolling her lips into her mouth yet still smiling because she didn’t want to be rid of the light, teasing mood that Luke had so easily set after pulling her out of the rigidness her mother had put her in. With a tilt of her head, Sloane wittily challenged, “We’re gonna have a good time, then?”
He responded with a comical wiggle of his eyebrows, enough to elicit laughter from Sloane as she pressed her hand against his chest and pushed him away. They stood, laughing in the middle of the cake aisle, as he confirmed, “An unforgettable time.”
The promising glint in his bright blue eyes left no room for doubt. As if there was ever any uncertainty; not when Luke looked at her the way he did. Not when Sloane found herself doing the same to him.
*****
The thin sheen of sweat that coated Calum’s skin felt welcomed as he approached the beach house, lightly kicking up sand as he kept the same pace of his jogging since he had started. It was a bright morning, unsurprising given that it was the middle of summer in Florida, the sun above threatening to burn him had he not had the good sense to put on some sunscreen before leaving the house. The ocean was nearly as blinding as the sun as the rays glittered against the water, leaving Calum perpetually squinting as he jogged along the shore, though not close enough to the water to get his shoes wet.
Still, Calum enjoyed the softness of the sand beneath his feet and the music playing in his ears not too loud to drown out the sounds of the ocean as it made for a combination he quickly grew fond of. Jogging along the shoreline of Daytona Beach was vastly different than doing so through Central Park; while the latter had become routine,Calum would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy the heat of the Florida son on his skin and the salt in the air replacing the unmistakable, world-known scent of New York he’d grown used to since his family had moved there when he was a child. While the rush of the city felt like home, the calmness of the beach rid Calum of the worries his bustling life back home came with, feeling completely at ease despite it only being their second day in Florida
He slowed down his pace when he approached the back of the house, about to head up the steps that led to the back deck when the sounds of a dog’s barking cut through the sound of Nine Inch Nails playing in his AirPods. Calum stopped before even going up the first step, pausing his music as he caught sight of a familiar German shepherd at the bottom of the steps of the house next door before he ran towards Calum.
“Oh hey, buddy,” Calum chuckled as Freddie reached him, the dog excitedly sniffing at Calum and looking up at him with dark eyes and what seemed to be a grinning mouth. As Calum rubbed at Freddie’s head, scratching behind his ears, he chuckled lowly, “Guess you remember me, huh?”
“I dunno what’s happening—but I feel like I should be worried about you trying to steal my dog.” Light footsteps against wooden panels could be heard, and Calum glanced up to see River staring down at him from where she stood on the back deck of the house next door. Her arms were folded atop the railing and as Calum absently kept petting Freddie, he could feel himself getting pulled in by the sight of River.
He’d only seen her in the dark of last night, but now she stood with blonde hair in pretty and messy waves and a smile on her pink lips as she peered down at him. Dimples. She had dimples. The sun was blinding, but it provided for a pink in her cheeks and a glow against her skin he wanted to admire for as long as she’d let him. And in watching her, he didn’t miss the way her own gaze seemed to size him up from her viewpoint, trailing up and down his arm. He knew she was taking in the sight of the tattoos wrapping around his left arm, an excited twist in the pit of his stomach knowing she was drinking him in the same way he was admiring her.
Remembering that she’d spoken to him, Calum quickly gathered his wits about him and offered a smirk, squinting up at her with one eye as he responded, “He’s the one that seems to find me.” He straightened as Freddie panted, and Calum held up his hands in defense as his smirk widened and he said, “Think he’s tryna tell you somethin’, doll.”
River’s close mouthed smile transformed into a proper grin, laughing at his words as Calum felt a tug in his chest at the sound. Before she could respond, though, another woman’s voice popped up, “Who’re you talking to, Rivvy?”
It sounded like an older woman, Calum’s thoughts confirmed when River glanced over her shoulder to whoever was behind her, obviously hidden from Calum’s view, as she said casually, “Just our new neighbor, Grams.”
“New neighbor?” Calum heard her grandmother repeat, feeling a small smile tug at the corner of his lips at the excited tone he detected. “Tell him to come up!”
River scoffed in amusement before looking back down at Calum, their eyes meeting, and from the distance Calum could confirm his observation from last night: definitely light colored eyes he wanted a closer look at. His eyebrows raised when River nodded her head over. “You heard the woman. Come on up.”
She unfolded her arms and gripped the wooden railing, standing up straight and watching Calum watch her. River raised questioning eyebrows when he stayed put for a moment, too lost in the way her hair danced in the ocean breeze and the glint of the fine golden necklace she wore around her neck. But he pulled himself out of his reverie when Freddie started making his way up River’s porch steps, and Calum was quick to follow, his footsteps a lot heavier against the wood as opposed to the clatter of Freddie’s paws.
Calum pocketed his AirPods as he made his way up, feeling his lips quirk at the sight of River sitting down on a chair, Freddie by her feet, a small table with two cups of tea and cookies, and River’s grandmother sitting in the chair next to her. The older woman grinned, warm and maternal, at the sight of Calum. “Ah, new neighbor, hello! I’m Maggie.”
Her short silver hair danced gently in the wind as she looked up Calum with green eyes, and he found himself returning her smile easily as he shook her hand and introduced, “Nice to meet you, ma’am. I’m Calum.”
“Oh, no ma’am,” she shook off, leaning back in her seat. “Call me Maggie—or Mags.” She then gestured to the spare chair opposite of her and River, and Calum settled down as River crossed one leg over the other. He did his best to keep his gaze on Maggie and not the smoothness of River’s legs. “So, Calum, when did you move next door?”
Calum linked his hands together, arms resting on his thighs as he let out a quiet laugh. “Actually, I’m on vacation with some friends of mine. We just got here yesterday from New York.”
Maggie raised her eyebrows in understanding. “Oh,” she nodded slowly, moving to reach for her cup of tea with a subtly trembling hand. Calum watched as River beat her to it, taking the mug and bringing it to her grandmother, who smiled at her gratefully. Looking back at Calum, Maggie asked, “How long are you here for?”
“A while,” River answered for him, Calum’s gaze darting to her, biting the inside of his cheek at the sight of her knowing smirk and hint of a dimple. When he looked at her, in that moment, he noted the green of her eyes, darker than Maggie’s, glinting against the sunlight. He felt his own lips mirror her smirk at her referral of their first meeting the night before. Was a while long enough? Long enough for what?
Calum looked back at Maggie, oblivious to whatever had just transpired between him and her granddaughter, and he offered her a charming smile before saying, “Ah, probably a little over a month.
Maggie nodded after taking a sip of her tea. Then her eyebrows raised as she glanced at River, a smile curling at her lips. “Oh, honey, now there’s some kids your age around. You should get to know them—show them around while they’re here!”
Calum watched the way River shot her grandmother a look; not an annoyed one, just mildly exasperated, like she wasn’t a fan of Maggie offering her up like that but also that it was something she was used to. She looked calm where she sat, an amused smile on her lips as she told Maggie, “Grams, I’m sure Calum and his friends already have their own pla—”
“No, no, she’s right.” The words fell past Calum’s mouth before he even realized, unaware that he’d spoken until two sets of green eyes were staring at him, excited and the other surprised. He looked at River, who seemed to be fighting a smile from growing on her lips, and Calum cleared his throat before backtracking in hopes of not sounding too desperate. “We, uh, we could always look for new things to do; we’ll be here for a while so, like, if you’ve got any ideas, I’m all ears.”
River smiled with a slow nod, tucking stray longs of her blonde hair behind her ear. The movement drew Calum’s attention to the black ink against her skin, trying to make out the tattoo she had before it disappeared from his view too quickly. Her grandmother chuckled. “Look at that—you’re making friends!”
River’s blue eyes met Calum’s brown at the mention of friends. It was hilariously an understatement of what either of them wanted to be. To Maggie, River scoffed, “I have friends, Grams.”
Maggie waved her off. “Other than your coworkers.”
As much as Calum wanted to stay and chat with the two of them, which was actually a lot, he needed to head back to the house to take a shower. So after kind goodbyes to Maggie and rub at the top of a compliant Freddie’s head, Calum got up and began making his way down the steps, River right behind him. He’d gotten to the sandy ground when River spoke up. “Calum.” He looked back up at her as she stood on the middle step of the staircase, squinting towards the ocean before looking down at him once more. “There’s actually this, uh, gig tonight. A local band playing at this underground bar downtown. You and your friends interested in that sort of thing?”
He fought the urge to instantly say yes. “Are they good?”
River chuckled gently. “If you’re down to hear a wanna-be version of Joy Division, yeah,” she mused with a shrug before laughing at Calum’s amused smirk. “Yeah, they’re good.”
Nodding and trying to ignore the thrill of the fact he’d get to see her later on, Calum asked, “What time?”
River grinned, turning her body to head back up, though gaze still locked on Calum’s as she told him, in a delightedly cute voice, “I’ll knock on your door at six-thirty.”
He adored her grin and dimples when he told her, “I look forward to it.”
Later on that evening, after the groceries Sloane and Luke had brought back long since packed away and everyone using their first day in Florida as an excuse to laze around, the energy in the house turned busy and buzzing as they got ready for the gig River had invited them all to after having dinner. There had been an excited buzz with his friends at having something to do for the night, as if they couldn’t have just gone into town on their own, but Calum supposed it was more fun with a local guiding them. He knew he definitely was looking forward to enjoying his night with River.
A knock sounded on his door, and Calum looked up from where he’d been crouched over, sitting at the end of the bed, tying the laces to his Docs. “What’s up?”
“I have a question,” Michael mused, strolling into the room, dressed up in his usual black and white outfit, cap covering his blonde hair, key necklace hanging low as Calum sat up with a questioning quirk of his eyebrows. “Is River the same girl you were talking to last night? During the bonfire?”
Calum blinked up at his oldest friend. “Yeah,” he answered slowly, warily. “Why?”
Michael took a breath, looking down at him as his hands fell to his sides. “Because you’d only met her once and you were talking about her like someone would if they weren’t engaged to someone else.” Calum bit the inside corner of his lips, knowing exactly where this was going. “And now we’re going out with her?” Michael shook his head. “Sounds dangerous, man.”
“Mike,” Calum spoke up, voice only slightly strained as he stood to his feet. Pointedly, he said, “Sloane and I agreed we wouldn’t talk about that stuff while we were here. We’re just trying to enjoy ourselves before—”
“Not talking about it doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist, Cal,” Michael cut in matter-of-factly, gaze turning concerned, like he was genuinely worried his friends were fooling themselves. ���What, you’re gonna screw around with some other girl with Sloane ten feet away? Come on, man, you’re not that kind of guy.”
As much as Calum appreciated the good place Michael was coming from, he found it completely unnecessary. He didn’t think any of his friends would understand the predicament he was in—only Sloane could. The two of them were put in this situation by listening to those around them; for now, Calum wanted to only listen to himself.
“Sloane and I aren’t together, Michael,” Calum said, his tone factual and purposeful. “We’re engaged, on paper, but there’s not—there’s no relationship there. Only friendship, and even that’s getting fucked because of this shit situation. When we’re married, that’s—” He broke off briefly, looking away from Michael with a shake of his head, not for the first time wondering how he could’ve let himself get mixed up in all of this. “It’ll be different then. For now, we both agreed to just enjoy ourselves before heading back to New York.”
Michael breathed in deeply as he considered Calum’s words, exhaling heavily with a shake of his head as he muttered, “Sounds fucking complicated.”
Calum scoffed, a wry smile tilting at his lips. “I know,” he mused, shooting his friend a look. “That’s why they say ignorance is bliss.”
The doorbell rang just then, and Calum failed to ignore the lurch in his chest as he clapped Michael’s back and headed out of his bedroom. He walked past Ashton’s, who was playing some Coldplay behind the half closed door, and as Calum jogged down the stairs he gave a shout to everyone in the house, “River’s here!”
He ran his hand over his hair as he approached the door, a nervous habit where he’d be able to tangle his fingers through his curls, though now he was left with only feeling the soft edges of his hair growing from when he shaved it a few months back. Calum quickly licked his lips, the doorknob cold under his touch, no time to overthink or question himself as Michael stood next to him, and he opened the door to reveal River standing on the blue wood of their porch.
Calum so desperately wanted to stand in the doorway and admire the sight of her; she looked like the picture perfect model of someone from a beach town. Wavy dark blonde hair, sunkissed skin, with a smile that Calum didn’t mind being blinded by. The subtle smell of salt wafted into the house when he opened the door, and before Calum could get lost in the sight of River—again—he opened the door wider and said, “Hey, come on in.”
She kept smiling as she entered the house, smiled as Calum introduced her to Michael and then everyone else as they one by one came down the stairs. He watched, suddenly feeling a bit uneasy, as Sloane greeted River with a smile, friendly and genuine in all her right. Selfishly, Calum’s gaze dropped to Sloane’s hand, relieved to see the lack of ring, pressing his tongue to the back of his bottom teeth at his own absurdity.
It was complicated, like Michael said. And Calum had no idea what the hell he was doing.
Once the introductions were done, it was time to head out, and since there were seven of them, two Ubers were called. River offered to call one of them, phone already in hand, but was promptly shut down by everyone as Calum and Luke took it upon themselves to call them. The two cars arrived quickly enough, and Calum sat in the back with River and Ashton took the front—they were too tall to fit in the back comfortably—before they were on their way.
“I could’ve called one of the cars, y’know,” River said as she buckled in her seatbelt.
Calum let out a small chuckle at her insistence. “River, seriously, it’s fine.”
“Yeah; you’re the one that gave us plans for the night; least we could do was pay for the ride there,” Ashton piped up from the front, words nothing short of honest. He turned around then, shooting her a friendly grin as he added, “But you can call one for the ride back.”
Calum watched as River giggled, the sound devastatingly sweet as they drove down the roads, the street lights rhythmically shining into the car every now and then and splashing against the pretty girl sitting beside him as she said to answer, “Deal.”
The confined space of the car had Calum far more intune with his senses, and out of nowhere, all he could smell was a delicious floral, no, fruity, scent. Something like passionfruit as it tickled his nose and Calum was a second away from a deep inhale when he realized it was probably River’s shampoo or lotion or something, and that he’d be some weirdo sitting next to her in a car, sniffing her like a dog. So he bit his tongue, fingers curling into his palms as Ashton asked River about herself, allowing Calum to know some more about her. Just surface things; of her living with her grandmother since she was a kid, spending years watching college kids every year come around for spring break, spending any free time she had looking for things to do. A lot of alone time, River told them she had, which allowed her to enjoy her own company and take advantage of when the opportunity to hang out with others arrived.
Like tonight, she’d joked, and when Calum’s brown eyes met her green, he knew she was glad Maggie had pushed her the way she had.
They’d reached their destination fairly soon, both cars pulling up at the same time, and River led them inside after they all flashed their I.D’s to the men outside. Music could be heard from below them, mixed with the chatter of people conversing loudly in hopes to be heard over it, and Calum fell into step alongside River as they walked down the stoned steps, going closer and closer to the noise.
“I wanted to ask—what’s your tattoo mean?” Calum found himself inquiring. His eyes had once again caught sight of the ink on the inside of River’s wrist. And as someone who had quite a few tattoos of his own, each with their personal story, he was always intrigued by the ink others wore proudly on their bodies.
River glanced down at her wrist. Colored lights began splashing across them, purples and blues doing more to darken their surroundings than lighten them up, and River’s lips quirked up at the sight of her tattoo. Calum got a better look at it; they seemed like two stick figures, joined together by a shared arm, except the joints and heads were made up of flowers, with the occasional leaf growing from what would be the limbs. But the figures were uneven, not entirely lining up.
“It’s the constellation for my zodiac sign,” River informed him with an airy chuckle. Calum could feel the bass of the music rumble through his chest. “I’m a Gemini, which has the symbol of the twins.” With a roll of her eyes, she continued, “There’s this stigma of Geminis being, like, two faced and fake or whatever, but I don’t think that’s me.” Shooting him a smile as they reached the bottom of the steps, his friends all right behind them, River finished, “I like to think I’m more of a what you is what you get type of person. I’ve got nothing to hide.”
There was something about the way she spoke that threatened to send Calum stumbling on his own feet. Her voice, from what Calum gathered to this point, was a sweet mixture of airy and confidence. Like she spoke as lightly as a gentle breeze yet had the independence of standing solid against anything that decided to challenge her. A free spirit in even her voice and manner of speaking, and it only served to draw Calum more and more into her. Dangerously slow.
The music had grown loud as they reached the bottom, arriving to the space where up ahead, Calum could see the band performing, everyone else in between enjoying the guitar centered music. Still, no matter how impressive they sounded, Calum found his attention to still be on River, who was looking ahead with an excited grin, and told her, “That’s pretty sick.”
He hoped she knew he was talking about her tattoo and not the band, gaze meeting hers as the purple lights flashed against her green eyes. River smiled. “Thanks—hope that means I get the backstory to all of yours.”
Calum grinned while biting his lower lip, not missing the way River tracked the action, as he told her easily, “Any day.”
Her grin widened, the shadows of her dimples gentle in her cheeks against the light, and River glanced over at the rest of Calum’s friends and said over the music, “Bar’s this way!”
They followed her through the buzzing, dancing crowd, Calum’s gaze darting over the heads of everyone around him to look over to the stage. The band sounded pretty good, cohesive and coordinated and talented, and if the music was good then Calum felt as though this night would be, too. They walked towards the bar, a very thin haze of smoke in the air, which he realized was from actual smoke machines and not anything people were using given the stench of cigarettes and weed wasn’t detectable. Bodies bumped against him as he made his way through, eyes on River as she led them to the bar, which they pushed their way onto and quickly caught the attention of one of the bartenders.
As they waited for their drinks, Calum leaned back with his elbows resting on the bar, gaze taking in his surroundings. He didn’t realize there was a second floor, a balcony like section surrounding them above as people danced and watched the band from up there. The walls were made up of rigid stone, lights set up in the middle of the ceiling to shine on the stage and flash on the crowd, in sync with the beats the band was playing. People in the crowd danced and sang along, hands holding cups or bottles in the air as they lost themselves for the night.
“So what do you think?” Calum glanced to his left to see River watching him take in everything, eyebrows raising as she handed him his drink he wasn’t aware was ready.
Calum nodded, lips quirking downwards, impressed, as he looked around once more before meeting River’s gaze once more. “It’s pretty cool,” he told her truthfully, shooting her a smile. “Thanks for bringing us here.”
River met his smile with a smirk of her own, holding up her glass as she corrected, “Thank my grams.”
He laughed at that, nodding in appraisal as he clinked his glass with hers before taking a sip of his vodka tonic. He owed Maggie.
Once they all had their drinks in hand, they began making their way into the crowd, grip on their glasses tight as they got to the middle of the boisterous audience, the heat of the mass amount of people already sticking to Calum’s skin as he looked towards the band. He didn’t know the songs or the words but his head still bopped to the music as he nursed his drink.
They finished playing one song and right before going into the next, the frontman surprised Calum by announcing that the next song would be their cover of a song by one of Calum’s favorite bands. “They cover The Maine?” he asked in surprise, gaze flickering to River.
She nodded with a hum, looking over at him as the blue light flashed across her face. It darkened her eyes and made them glitter at the same time, and for a moment he forgot where he was as she smiled at him. “Yeah—you like them?”
Calum let out a breath. “Fucking love them,” he told her just as the band began playing the familiar tune of Black Butterflies and Deja Vu. He felt himself loosen up even more, unable to keep himself from singing the lyrics.
By the time the chorus hit, they were screaming the lyrics with the entire crowd, feeling the ground beneath them vibrate and hearts pound with the drums, and Calum felt himself leaning into River just as she did him, jumping along to the music yet the distance between them was practically nonexistent. His left arm eventually found its way around River’s shoulders, the two of them moving together to the music, not even thinking twice as her own free arm went around his waist to keep him close. Effortless, unthinking, just.
Calum didn’t know what to make of this, what he was doing. During too many songs did he catch himself unable to tear his gaze away not from the stage, but from River. His own movements had slowed down, body only jolting ever so slightly if someone else bumped into him, mostly when River’s own dancing in the form of excited jumps with her hand gripping his arm had him pulled towards her each time. Calum should be watching the band on stage, but he could hear them fine enough, and so his eyes seemed to gravitate towards River and stay on her to take in the glow of her skin against the colored lights, the subtle glitter of her makeup, the shadows of her dimples as she sang along through her grin.
She looked beautiful; drowning in the music, a thrilled happiness glinting against her eyes that effortlessly took Calum’s breath away. He wasn’t one to get blindsided often, didn’t particularly enjoy it, but somehow he was okay with River completely taking him by surprise. Not that he knew how she did it, but he wasn’t going to fight against it.
Calum blinked out of his reverie when River’s green eyes met his brown, and she leaned towards him to tell him over the music, “I’m gonna get another drink.”
Not wanting her to go by herself, he replied, “I’ll come with you,” before looking to his other side at Ashton, gesturing to him that he was gonna go to the bar, to which Ashton nodded in acknowledgement.
River and Calum pushed their way through the bustling crowd, lips curling a bit distastefully as warm bodies rubbed against him, expression suddenly melting when River reached her free hand behind her to grab onto Calum’s. His gaze darted to their joined hands, how hers seemed to fit a bit too well in his, before dragging his eyes back up, only to see River glancing at him over her shoulder. She flashed him a smile, cute and easy going, before turning to continue her way through the crowd until they were finally out.
Their hands were still together as they approached the bar, and Calum hoped she wouldn’t let go because he certainly wasn’t ready to, desperately fighting the urge to shift his hand so his fingers could interlace with hers. But maybe that was too intimate. He didn’t know.
River flagged down one of the bartenders with her empty glass, asking for another margarita as her and Calum leaned against the bar, facing one another in the minimal space they had as many others gathered around the bar as well. After giving her order, River’s gaze flitted just a little past Calum, towards the stage over his shoulder as her head bopped to the music, and he knew he should turn to follow her gaze but he stayed put. No amount of force or willpower allowed him to turn around, to drag his eyes away from the green of hers, or the pink of her lips, or the soft waves of her blonde hair. She seemed to be constantly smiling, from the few times Calum had seen her, a sight he was getting too used to, too quickly.
He couldn’t bring himself to care.
River’s eyes flickered to his, smile still present as she raised her eyebrows and inquired, “What?”
Calum didn’t look away, not at all ashamed at his open admirance of her, feeling a thrilling twist in his stomach when he felt her thumb absently rub at the back of his hand. Her smile prompted one on Calum’s lips too, taking a tiny step towards her, his body towering over hers, as he nonchalantly responded, “Nothin’.” River’s expression went from questioning to unconvinced, and Calum let out a low chuckle before telling her, “I owe Maggie for convincing you to go out with us.”
A laugh escaped River, looking away from the intensity of Calum’s gaze as she said, “Grams didn’t have to do much convincing.” Her eyes met his, the smile she wore faltering into a more secretive, yet equally alluring, one. “Going out with you was a no brainer.”
His heart quickened, no longer in time with the drums, gaze ever so briefly dropping to her lips as the distance between them grew smaller and smaller by the second. Over alcohol probably spilled somewhere and the sweat of bodies lingering in the air, Calum could still smell the passionfruit on River, could focus on only that as her body drew closer and closer. He was realizing, as both of their gazes only seemed to focus on the other’s lips, the extent of the effect River seemed to have on him, could feel it in the way his mouth burned with the desire of capturing hers, hand tingling where she held it in her own. It was like every force of nature was pulling him towards River, was relieved to know it was just as mutual when she finally closed the gap by pushing herself on her toes to press her lips against Calum’s.
He pushed closer to her, free hand coming up to cup her cheek as she easily parted her soft lips for him, deepening the kiss as his tongue slowly came to meet hers, his vodka mixing with her tequila. Not that either of them cared a bit. Everything around them was moving quickly and loudly, losing themselves in the fast paced energy of this underground concert they’d found themselves in. But none of it registered in Calum’s head anymore; the entirety of his focus went into the way his heart threatened to jump out of his chest and right into the palm of River’s hand until she fisted the front of his Nine Inch Nails tee to keep him close. Colors flashed behind Calum’s closed lids as he kissed her, but he knew it had nothing to do with the lights flickering around him. Nor did the bustling crowd have anything to do with the heat firing up his skin. It was all River and the power she so effortlessly seemed to have over him, giving into her as he finally did shift his hand so his fingers could lace with hers.
They had to pull away for a breather, but their faces remained close, Calum’s eyes opening just enough to look down at her pink lips, kissed and soft and needing more. With a breathless smirk, he asked, “Was it worth it?”
He prompted a gentle giggle from River, tilting her head up just to brush her lips against his as she answered, “Kiss me again and I’ll let you know.”
God, he didn’t want this night to end.
*****
When River walked over to where the group of them were sitting with a pleasant hi y’all, an uncomfortable twisting sensation bothered the pit of Sloane’s stomach as she watched Calum greet her with a hug. She pushed it aside long enough to say her own hi’s with a smile, but Sloane couldn’t help but chewing on the inside of her lower lip River sat down at the end of Calum’s beach chair, thanking Crystal as she handed her a drink.
The smile Calum wore in River’s presence was telling enough, and the uncomfortable feeling turned into a bad one, the added heat of the sun prompting Sloane to shift uneasily where she sat on her own chair. Silently, Sloane looked down at her paper plate with her half eaten slice of pizza and some chicken wings. She desperately wanted to push aside whatever was eating her up, wanting to enjoy the beach day because it was Ashton’s birthday, the music was playing and the food was as hot as the sun above them. He didn’t want to do anything big, opting to spend the day enjoying the beach and the ocean with his friends after receiving his presents ordering a whole lot of food from one of the best pizza and wings places in town. Living in the heart of the city did not allow for any beach days, so they were determined to take full advantage of the never ending blue ocean in front of them; except Sloane kept tapping her foot against the ground and she needed to talk to Calum.
While Sloane had grown used to being silenced, she also knew she deserved to be heard—something she would quickly have to adjust to when they got back home. And her worry for Calum kept her from just sitting and letting things happen, so she put down her plate on her chair and stood up, taking the few steps towards Calum’s chair and saying, “Hey, Cal.” She shot River an apologetic smile for interrupting before looking at Calum, who was staring up at her from behind his sunglasses. “Can I talk to you for a second?”
She noted the way his eyebrows drew together, wondered if he was deciding against it until he ultimately let out a quiet breath and stood up, telling River he’d be right back before following Sloane away from the group. They walked a bit of a distance until Calum stopped and asked, almost boredly, “What’s up?”
Sloane turned to face him, sighing as her sheer lilac colored cover up swayed in the breeze. Looking up at Calum, her sunglasses resting atop her head as she squinted at him, she asked, “What are you doing?” When his frown deepened, Sloane pursed her lips. “With River. Are you guys, like, together?”
She noted the clench of his jaw, his arms crossing over his bare chest as the sun unfairly made his skin glow. There was a rigidness in his shoulders and Sloane knew he was getting irritated, but she didn’t quite care in the moment. “Why does it matter?”
Her eyebrows shot up incredulously, wondering briefly if she misheard him over the distant sound of waves crashing on the shore. “Why does i—” Sloane cut herself off with a scoff, shaking her head up at Calum as her lips quirked in a disbelieving smile. “Because if this is more than just a—a summer fling, then you’re gonna end up hurting River.” She leaned back a bit, her expression softening a little as she added, “And yourself.”
Calum’s lips puckered petulantly, tongue pushing against his lower lip as he considered Sloane’s words. She hoped he understood where she was coming from, that she was only worried about not only him but this girl that, Sloane knew, had no idea of the circumstances the guy she was getting involved with was in. If whatever Calum was pursuing with River ended up being more than just a brief fling, something to hold him over while they were in Florida, then they were going to end up in a lot of pain. The arrangement Sloane and Calum were in had already put a bit of a strain on their friendship; she didn’t want him to completely resent her for being unable to be with someone he may actually want to have. This wasn’t jealousy, not by a long shot; this was genuine concern for any potential heartbreak Calum was, intentionally or not, setting himself and River up for.
Calum looked to his left, towards the glimmering ocean and blinding sun, and Sloane watched as he pressed his tongue to the inside of his cheek before he lowly said, “I thought we agreed we wouldn’t discuss. . . The arrangement while we were here.”
Sloane felt a disappointed tug in her chest. Was he even willing to listen to her? To acknowledge she came from a place of genuine concern? “We did,” she confirmed calmly, throat working. “But that was before I saw how much you seem to like River. And how much I can tell she likes you. This whole thing is complicated and, trust me, I’m still trying to figure out how to deal with it, but—”
“You’re right, it is complicated,” Calum cut her off, finally looking down at her once again, and Sloane fought the urge to shrink into herself under his stare. Despite being unable to see his dark eyes, she could hear the edge in his tone, feel the tension radiating off of him. “But while you try to figure things out for yourself, let me deal with them the way I want to.” Sloane blinked to break their gaze, looking away from him as she pressed her lips together, finding some semblance of dignity to not be insulted by the way he spoke to her. And it was like Calum heard how harsh he was being because he paused before letting out a breath. His tone was calmer, losing its edge, as he added, “I appreciate your concern, Sloane. But you do you and let me handle things my own way, okay? Just. . . Take advantage of being able to make your own decisions for now.” With a wry scoff, he added, “I know I am.”
She rolled her lips into her mouth, nodding as she took in Calum’s words and looked back up at him again. He didn’t seem as tense as before, and it relaxed her muscles somewhat as he offered her a small smile before nodding his head over to the group, silently telling her they should get back. Sloane sighed quietly, the sound drowned out as they approached their friends, grabbing her plate and settling on her chair once again.
The weight of a pair of eyes on her wasn’t missed, and Sloane looked up to see Luke sitting across from her in his own chair, plate in hand with arms resting on his knees as his blue eyes met her own. He furrowed his eyebrows subtle and gave a gentle lift of his chin, silently asking if she was alright. Sloane felt the corner of her lips tug upwards at his obvious concern, a silent nod telling him she was fine. Or she would be.
“Mm, Sloane, you made this cake?” She looked away to see River looking at her, a slice of the lemon cake she’d made on her plate and a plastic fork in her hand. River had pretty green eyes, Sloane couldn’t help but admire, a gorgeous image of beached beauty. When Sloane responded with a confirming nod and smile, River’s own widened as she praised, “It’s so good. I’ve never liked lemon cake until now.”
Sloane let out a laugh at her compliment, thanking her sincerely before continuing with her pizza. She took a breath, picking up the slice and absently inspecting it. River was a sweetheart, Sloane could tell. She hoped she didn’t get hurt.
A little over an hour later, Sloane stood at the shore, feeling the cold water gather up to her shins every time the waves crashed over, tempting her to go in deeper. But she remained put, hearing the speaker Ashton brought play an unfamiliar song, her cover up fluttering in the breeze. Arms crossed over her chest and sunglasses forgotten on her chair, Sloane watched the others enjoy the water. She could hear their laughter, mixed with that of other beach goers a little ways away, and Sloane chewed on her lower lip as she watched Michael and Crystal play a game of chicken against Calum and River. All smiles, all giggles, completely carefree. Calum was in a state of contentment Sloane hadn’t seen in a while, and as relieved as she was to see him like this, she knew it was because of River, and it worried her.
“Aren’t you gonna go in?” Sloane jumped at the sound of Luke’s voice, a gasp ripping through her throat as Luke chuckled sheepishly, holding up his hands in defense. “Sorry, sweetheart, didn’t mean to scare you.”
“Jeez,” Sloane laughed breathlessly, shooting Luke a look. “Warn a girl next time.” He merely grinned, dimples and all, and Sloane forced herself to tear her gaze away from him. Or else she’d get lost in admiring his wet hair and glistening body that she felt like God took a bit more time carefully sculpting. Answering his question, she said, “Uh, I don’t know, actually. I hate feeling seaweed on my feet—it freaks me out.”
It was a dumb fear, Sloane knew, as Luke hummed thoughtfully. Her cheeks warmed then when he nonchalantly suggested, “I can just carry you in. No nasty seaweed touching you then, just me.” When her gaze met his, Sloane saw the way Luke’s brain seemed to catch up to what he’d said, and watched as a pink flush donned his cheeks as he began stumbling over his words. His eyes widened as he began backtracking, “Not like—I didn’t mean it to sound like that. I just meant, y’know, I’d, like, carry you in and—”
She’d struggled to keep the smile from growing on her face as Luke tripped over his words, feeling her heart jump at how endearingly adorable he was capable of being. Seeing Luke so flustered wasn’t something Sloane was entirely used to, and the fact that it was kind of because of her had her skin growing hot. Her cheeks hurt from her grin, deciding to ease Luke’s fluster as she put a hand on his bicep and gently laughed, “I know what you meant, Luke.”
He pressed his lips together instantly, looking both grateful and embarrassed, cheeks still tinged an adorable pink. Luke raised a hand pushing his fingers through his wet hair as it slicked back, looking down at his feet for a moment. He then looked at Sloane once more and said, “I just, uh, don’t want you hanging out here by yourself. You. . . You looked upset before.”
The softness in his tone had Sloane smiling a soft, small grin, his consideration not lost on her. She squinted against the sun, looking up at him as her own loose strands of hair tickled her jaw and neck. “I wasn’t upset. Just. . . Worried.”
Luke’s eyebrows drew together a bit. “Worried about what?”
Sloane rolled her lips into her mouth, taking a breath as her gaze wandered back towards the ocean. River had successfully pushed Crystal off Michael’s shoulders, laughing victoriously with Calum, whose hands were rubbing at her thighs before she bent down, her hands cupping his cheeks to lean his head back so she could quickly kiss him. Not a new sight for any of them, given that Calum and River hadn’t been particularly secretive about the action since the night of the concert.
And it was weird for all of them, but not fully so. Because no one had told River about Calum and Sloane, leaving it up to him to do so, and no one could really say anything against Calum being with River because he wasn’t with Sloane. So they let him do what he wanted, assuming he had things under control, and Sloane could only hope he did. They weren’t together, but they were still friends, and she didn’t want to see him hurt, or River. It wasn’t weird seeing him with River, nor was Sloane at all jealous. Being jealous would mean she felt something for Calum in more than a platonic fashion, and that had never been the case. Frankly, she didn’t think that would ever be the case. She was just concerned.
She figured Luke followed her gaze because he slowly asked, “Are you worried or jealous?”
His question had a startled laugh choking out of Sloane, eyes widening as she exclaimed a genuinely bewildered, “What?” When she gave a shake of her head and looked at Luke, she saw how serious he was in his inquiry, and it only prompted more incredulous laughter to bubble past Sloane. Poor Luke was watching her, probably truly confused as to what she thought was so funny, unaware that his serious question was humorous in its own right. “Oh, God, no,” Sloane answered in between dying laughter, looking at a still confused Luke. “I’m not—if I was jealous, that would mean I had, like, feelings for Calum, which I don’t.” Sloane calmed down, exhaling softly as Luke’s shoulders sank a bit. “I’m just worried if he knows what he’s getting himself into. But jealous?” She scoffed, shooting Luke a reassuring look. “Far from it.”
Luke rolled his lips into his mouth, looking out at the water as his eyebrows drew together under the sun. “But. . . He’s your fiancé.”
Sloane pursed her lips at the reminder, one that she didn’t need, before exhaling forcefully. “Not while we’re in Florida.” She looked at Luke once more, who’d raised his eyebrows in consideration of her words. He glanced up as a pelican flew overhead, meeting Sloane’s gaze once again when she added, “I’m a free woman until we get back.”
His body turned to face hers, easily towering over her, and Sloane couldn’t ignore the way she liked it. Luke’s broad frame and impossible height made Sloane feel so small; except Luke himself never did. The way he looked at her, listened to her, talked to her. . . Everything about the way he existed around her made Sloane feel visible. And not just now, but for years; Luke always had a way of making Sloane feel as if she was someone worth listening to, worth getting to know, and there had been times where she’d tell herself that’s just the way Luke was. Kind, sweet, personable. Now, thought. . . Sloane couldn’t help but think, with her, it may just be something more than she’d previously caught on to.
“Alright then,” Luke smiled, his dimples coming out. “Will you get in the water with me?”
Sloane giggled softly before nodding, taking a few steps away from the shore to take off her cover up. She had on her bathing suit, but took off her denim cut offs and dropped them with the cover up on the ground, running her hands through her long dark hair as she watched Luke watch her. Heat jolted through her veins at the sight of his gaze, feeling him earnestly appreciate her, a sensation Sloane didn’t think she’d enjoy until she was.
Luke licked his lips, blinking himself back into reality as he turned around. “Okay, come on.” She watched as he crouched down with his back towards her, wiggling his fingers at her. “One seaweed free ocean entrance.”
She rolled her eyes at his humor, totally endearing, as she approached him with a quickening heart rate. Swiftly, Sloane got onto his back, biting her lower lip as his hands grasped the back of her knees, her front pressed against his bare back, arms wrapping around his neck and trying so hard not to focus on the sensation of his skin against hers as he began making his way to the water. She struggled to keep the smile off her face as he began going deeper, the water at his hips, her chin resting on her arm on his shoulder and head right next to his as she felt the cold water on her skin, the salt in the air even more prominent.
Luke’s long legs allowed for him to go further into the water on his feet than Sloane would’ve been able to, their friends playing around nearby, and she heard herself giggle as the gentle waves splashed against them. “Hm, okay, I don’t think your feet are gonna touch the ground here, shorty,” Luke said before both of them reluctantly let go of each other.
As Sloane floated—her feet did not, in fact, touch the ground here—she splashed Luke. He made a protesting sound through a laugh, turning away from her halfway in between of turning to face her, and Sloane argued, “I’m 5’5”—that’s average. You’re the one that’s ninety-five percent legs!”
Luke scoffed, splashing her right back as he asked, “What’s the other five percent?”
Sloane paused, bobbing in the water before smirking. “Hair.”
Her shriek was silence when Luke grabbed her before dunking her under, laughing before he was pulled under too as Sloane pushed and swam away from him. They resurfaced, gasping laughter and the taste of salt on their lips, and the blue of Luke’s eyes was far superior than that of the ocean, Sloane had decided. His smile could rival the sun, too.
Soon enough, Ashton called them over for a game of water volleyball with the beach ball he’d snagged from the gift shop, and Michael called himself out to be the referee so there was an even number of players. Crystal, Calum and River versus Ashton, Sloane and Luke. As the game proceeded, Sloane found herself worrying less and less about Calum and River and focusing more on how Luke would swim over to her every time they scored a point, one arm wrapping around her collarbone to pull her back into his chest while his free hand high fived Ashton. She’d focus on the vibration of his chest when he yelled out a cheer or laughed triumphantly, the sound so easily widening Sloane’s grin without her even noticing. His skin easily warmed her within the coolness of the water, feeling herself childishly pout every time he pulled away from her to continue the game.
It was hours later—hours of spending it under the sun, in the water, having a sand castle competition which Michael surprisingly won, and eating more food—that they decided to call it a day, which Sloane was fine with. The sun was beginning to set and spending a good amount of time in the water had Sloane yearning for her bed after she washed the salt and sand off in the shower.
She figured she wouldn’t be hungry after eating so much during lunch, collapsing on the mattress with damp hair and in her pajamas. Except her stomach started growling right when she got comfortable, and Sloane buried her face in the pillow, hoping if she ignored it for long enough, her hunger would go away. But that wasn’t the case, and so she was reluctantly hauling herself off the bed and making her way down the dark hallway and stairs. She was surprised, however, when she noted the kitchen light was on and someone else seemed to have the same idea as her.
“You’re having a late night snack and didn’t invite me?” Sloane grinned when Luke glanced up from his bowl of Cheerios to watch her enter the kitchen, straightening where he’d been leaning against the counter. The overhead kitchen light was the only one on, while the hallway leading to the back deck, the foyer, and living room were all darkened. Sloane clicked her tongue. “I’m hurt.”
Luke chuckled, putting the spoon in the bowl as he said, “Every man for himself and his own hunger.” Raising an eyebrow, he added, “You looked ready to collapse before.”
Sloane scoffed, reveling in the cool tiles against her bare feet as she walked to where the bowls were, pulling one out for herself. She gathered what she needed, included the box of Coco Puffs, and said, “I was, but I guess my stomach had other plans.”
He scooped some more cereal up. “Same here,” he said before shoving the spoonful in his mouth.
As she poured milk over her cereal, Sloane smirked and shot him a glance. “Yeah, but you’re deadass always hungry.”
Luke didn’t look affronted as she put the milk back in the fridge, shoulders hunched as he brought the bowl up so the milk didn’t drip from his spoon as he continued to eat. “I’m a growing boy.”
She stood diagonal of him at the counter, her smirk widening in the quiet of the night as she said, “You’re almost twenty-three. You’re a man, not a boy.”
Sticking his tongue out, quite effortlessly contradicting Sloane’s statement, much to her amusement, Luke began backing away, carrying his bowl close to his chest with both hands. “Well, this man is gonna watch Scooby-Doo while he eats, in case you’d like to join.”
Her smile widened at his jokingly haughty tone, picking up her bowl and following him into the living room where he settled on the couch and turned on the TV. Sloane took a seat right next to him, crossing her legs and eating her cereal as Luke went on Netflix and found the cartoon. They sat in the dark together, the only light emitting from the bluish glow of the television, the volume appropriately low as to not disturb their friends asleep upstairs.
The two of them were quiet, the sound of the show only disturbed by the crunch of the cereal they ate and the occasional clink of their spoons against the bowls. Sloane could feel herself growing tired, especially after she finished her cereal and put her empty bowl on the coffee table in front of them. She leaned back on the couch, sinking a bit as her gaze remained fixated on the TV. There was nothing stopping her, really, from returning to her room and falling asleep now that she’d quelled her hunger. But the thought of leaving Luke was enough to make her stay, to sit in his company rather than go to sleep. He was a warm and comforting presence, his low chuckles at the cartoon bringing a sleepy smile to Sloane’s lips, whatever woodsy and fresh body wash he’d used tickling her nose as she smelled it every time she took a breath.
The last thing she remembered was watching Scooby and the gang running from a specter before her heavy lids fell and her head lolled to the side until it fell against, what she assumed sleepily, was Luke’s arm.
She woke, unsure of how long later, eyes sleepily blinking open when she felt her cheek come in contact with something soft. Slowly, she came to, eyebrows furrowing tiredly when she realized she was being carried in someone’s arms. A familiar scent embraced her and Sloane couldn’t even control the sleepy smile upturning her lips as she mumbled, “Luke?”
“Hi, sweetheart,” his low voice whispered, and judging by his movements, Sloane determined that he was going up the stairs, until they reached the top. “You fell asleep downstairs.”
Sloane hummed in acknowledgment as Luke took them to her room. She was vaguely aware of her fingers fiddling with the soft material of Luke’s shirt as she was held close to him. “Did they find the bad guy?”
She felt the rumble of Luke’s chest as he chuckled quietly, using his foot to push open her bedroom door as he appeased, “You know they did.”
They entered her room and Sloane kept her eyes closed, reveling in Luke’s movements and the grip he had on her, humming when she felt him lower her until she lay on the mattress. Sleepily, her eyebrows furrowed, not entirely liking the feel of her mattress when she’d gotten to feel Luke’s arms. Sloane huffed, rolling onto her side as she blinked her eyes open to look up at Luke, who was about to bring up her blanket to cover her. She slid her hand towards the edge of the bed where he stood, blue eyes meeting blue as she asked, “Will you stay, Lu?”
She took in the way he looked down at her, both surprised by her request and, from what she guessed, endeared. Through the dark of her room, the only light seeping through the curtains was the glow of the moon, Luke’s blue eyes appeared like a beacon, one Sloane felt herself drawing towards and not wanting to be rid of. Even in her sleepy haze, the forwardness of her request wasn’t lost on her, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. She needed the closeness—his closeness—and Sloane had a feeling Luke wasn’t going to argue against her.
He didn’t. Instead, Luke’s lips quirked upwards and he nodded, whispering, “Lemme close the door.”
Sloane nodded as Luke disappeared towards the door, and she shifted backwards to the other side so there was room for Luke, licking her lips as she paid attention to the drum of her heart. They were only sharing a bed, she sleepily reminded herself. That’s all.
The soft click of the door shutting was followed by Luke reappearing by the bed, his smile gentle as he climbed under the comforter, the mattress sinking under his weight as Sloane watched him lay down next to her. He rested on his side, facing her, blonde curls brushing across his forehead, and a contentment settled in Sloane’s bones at the sudden warmth his presence brought. The smile reappeared on her lips, small and tired and gentle, and without much thought, Sloane shuffled closer to Luke.
He turned to his back, allowing for her to settle into his side and rest her cheek against his chest while his right arm loosely hooked around her shoulders to keep her close. Sloane closed her eyes at the feel of being in his arms once again, slowly sliding her right leg between both of his as her hand rested on his chest as well. Faintly, under her touch, Sloane could feel the gentle, steady drum of Luke’s heart, utterly at peace in where he lay. It brought a kind of comfort Sloane hadn’t expected, to feel Luke in his entirety laying next to her, so real and present. It brought a smile to her face and allowed for sleep to return easily.
The brush of his lips against her forehead heated her skin pleasantly, the subtle scratch of his facial hair eliciting a desire to lean herself closer to him. “Goodnight, Sloane,” he quietly murmured. And it was.
*****
Around eleven at night was when Calum and all of his friends returned to the house after a late dinner. He could hear most of them unwinding in the living room downstairs, the open doors and spacious halls allowing for sound to travel easily—not to mention they were probably the loudest group ever. Not that Calum minded.
He took off his leather jacket, tossing it on the bed as he gazed out the window. The ocean at night was mesmerizing, the glitter of the moonlight against the water superior than the sun, in Calum’s opinion. He wasn’t quite sure how long he stood staring, but when he was about to turn away, his gaze wandered to the house next door; specifically, the back deck of River’s house. With a furrow in his eyebrows, Calum stepped closer to the window, gaze downwards, the deck light allowing him to see that River was sitting on top of the railing of the deck, facing the ocean.
Her face wasn’t visible to him, obviously, and for a moment Calum bit his lower lip, debating his next move. He wondered if she wanted to be alone, if he would be intruding on alone time she may want to have. But he found himself moving before giving himself a chance to truly think about it, walking out of the room and down the stairs. The sounds of his friends and the TV playing were loud and present, but no one noticed him reach the bottom of the steps and turn around to walk down the hall, their voices growing faint as he stepped outside into the surprisingly cool night and shut the glass door behind him.
He squinted ever so slightly against the breeze, instantly tasting the salt as he took the few steps towards the steps, the weight of his Docs providing for some heavy thuds against the wood despite him attempting to be light on his feet. His eyes trailed over to the house next door, catching sight of the girl peacefully sitting on the railing, as he approached the railing. He gripped it, trying to make out River’s expression; all he could see from where he stood was a calmness on her features that he found himself not wanting to disturb even though he wanted to talk to her, just be in her presence, really. It was relaxing. But he’d lived life without presence. He could do it again.
So, rolling his lips into his mouth, Calum silently pushed himself off the railing and turned to head back inside, stopping in his tracks when River’s lilting voice called, “You’re not even gonna say hi?”
Calum stopped, turning his head to see River looking at him. He took a breath, the cold air tickling his throat as he buried his hands in the pockets of pants and faced her house. Lifting his chin, he found his voice as he responded, “Didn’t wanna disturb you.”
“You’re not,” River replied, stretching her hand out towards him, fingers wiggling as she called out, “Come sit.”
She didn’t have to tell him twice, turning towards the steps and making his way down and crossing over to the steps of her back deck. He happened to glance up as he made his way over, River’s legs dangling above him as she stared straight ahead, and he soon enough reached the top, hand sliding along the top of the railing as he walked over to the spot where she sat. Calum came to a stop to River’s right, leaning on the bannister with his arms folded on top of it, but instead of following her gaze to the view up ahead, he took in the one right next to him.
“You alright?” He wasn’t quite sure what prompted him to ask that, but it was just something in her face. A mute sadness he felt she was trying to hide behind a mask of contentment.
River’s throat worked, not meeting his gaze yet. “No,” she answered truthfully, head bowing as her gaze dropped to her lap. She glanced at Calum, who was watching her patiently, and River smiled wryly before letting out a sigh. “I called my mom today just to, you know, talk to her. Hadn’t heard from her in a while. But she was, uh,” she paused with a frown, like she was fighting the emotions threatening to spill, licking her lips. “She was too busy with her new boyfriend. We barely talked for a minute before she hung up.”
Calum frowned, feeling a sense of annoyance towards River’s mom and her lack of communication with a daughter who obviously wanted it. “Where is she?”
River scoffed, lifting her head. Her blonde hair danced in the wind. “Hell if I know. Her boyfriend’s a roadie; like, lives out of an RV. So she’s always driving around the country with him.” River’s shoulders sank with another heavy sigh, wringing her fingers in her lap. “And my dad—he hasn’t spoken to me since the divorce. So it’s been me and Grams.” Her back straightened, shooting Calum a reassuring look as she proceeded, “Which I’m fine with, by the way. I love Grams. I just didn’t think my parents would, y’know, forget about me while trying to forget about each other.”
His heart sank to the pit of his stomach at River’s words, hating to see her so upset over something he didn’t know how to make better. He didn’t know her parents, didn’t know what happened between them, but taking out their issues in the form of neglecting their daughter was horrible and instantly tightened Calum’s jaw.
He straightened, stepping closer to River so he was halfway behind her, looking up at her as her gaze slowly met his. “It’s their loss,” Calum told her firmly, confidently. He hoped she saw the sincerity in his eyes, heard it in his voice when he said, “They’re missin’ out on getting to know one hell of a woman.”
River rolled her lips into her mouth, taking in a breath at Calum’s words, gaze briefly dropping to his lips as she asked in a whisper, “You think so?”
Calum reached up, finger gently pushing back a lock of blonde hair from her cheek, his mouth curling into an honest, charming smile as he replied, “Know so.”
She let out a breath with a smile, gaze softening, leaning down and capturing Calum’s lips with hers. He felt the tip of her nail at the bottom of his chin, tilting his head towards her as his arms wrapped around her waist, an absent fear of her falling on the ride side of the railing—or falling in general. River tasted like coconut chapstick as he reveled in the softness of her lips, using his grip on her hips to carefully turn her around the bannister without breaking the kiss, stepping into the space between her legs as her tongue caressed his.
He groaned against her, the sound a low rumble against the distant roar of waves, as his hands slid up from her hips and under the loose material of her top, his skin against hers as he fingers danced up her sides, drawing a quiet moan from River. He wanted to hear more of it, more of her.
“Upstairs.” Apparently River had the same idea as he did, the single word rushing out breathlessly against his lips. “My room’s upstairs.”
Calum grasped one of her hands in his, reluctantly pulling away from her to allow her to step down with the help of his hold, and Calum felt his breath catch in his throat at the sight of River and the ocean breeze pushing her blonde hair forward. Her lips were kissed, his greedy doing, and Calum bit his lower lip as River smiled prettily before pulling him towards the house. He paused only to shut the glass door behind them before River led him towards the dark house and up the stairs, shushing and giggling at him when a step creaked under his foot, which only caused Calum to cover his mouth to stifle the laugh threatening to escape.
They reached her bedroom, and Calum let out a breath at the yellow fairy lights strung up on the wall behind the bed, providing the room with a pretty glow. It was one of his favorite things about her room, along with the sill of the window looking out to the beach that had small plants lined up on it.
River grabbed Calum’s other hand to pull him in, meeting his grinning lips with her own as she kissed him fervently, and he walked her backwards towards the bed until her knees hit the back of it, forcing her to sit down on the edge. Calum took the opportunity to sink down to his knees, dark eyes never leaving River’s green as he undid the button and zipper of her shorts, sliding them, along with her panties, down her smooth legs until she kicked them off willingly.
The smirk she threw his way had Calum’s breath catching in his throat, especially when she lifted her right leg and rested it on his shoulder, the heel of her foot gently nudging into his back as she teased, “I’ve been dying to know if you’re more than just a great kisser.”
That was quite the invitation.
Calum kissed the inside of her thighs, trailing up to her core, just barely getting there, before switching to the other one. He ran his fingers along the side of her leg resting on his shoulder, other hand on her left knee to keep her open as he trailed hot kisses to where she needed him most. “You think ’bout my mouth a lot, doll?” he goaded, his voice dropping to a rasp.
“More than I should,” River answered above him, earning a smirk from Calum as he heard the way her breathing was shallow. “I’m too curious.”
His breath fanned over her entrance. “Lemme fix that,” was all the warning Calum gave before licking a stripe over her folds. He felt River’s body react with a small gasp, urging him on to appease whatever curiosity River may have had.
He licked at her folds, right arm laying across her hips just so his thumb could tease her clit, reveling in the dig of her heel on his upper back and her hand at the back of his head, desperately wanting to keep him close. Not that Calum would rather be anywhere else.
River allowed herself to fall backwards on the mattress as Calum’s tongue continued to work her over, the back of her hand pressed to her mouth to keep any noises from escaping because her grandmother was asleep. Calum smirked against her, tongue and even a little bit of teeth teasing her as his thumb played with her clit, reveling in the taste of her and feeling his dick twitch when she ground her hips, begging for more. He loved her silent begging, the tilt of her head as he drew her towards the edge, feeling like a bastard when he could feel how close she was and decided to pull away at the last second.
He heard her groan against her hand before looking up at him as he climbed over her, a wicked smirk on his face as he took in her pout and said, “I think that’s enough proof for your curiosity, hm?”
She pushed herself up on her knees, scooting back on top of the bed and allowing him to admire the glow of her body under the lights. He needed that tank top of hers off. As well as the boxers that were constricting him a bit too much. River narrowed her eyes at him, her breathing slightly labored, cheeks flushed adorably as she quipped, “If I say yes, will you take off your damn pants?”
Her wish was his command.
*****
“This is amazing,” Sloane murmured, her voice carrying every bit of awe, as she picked up a pair of homemade earrings and observed them. They were beaded, blue and silver, and she held them up to her ears as she looked at Luke and asked, “What do you think?”
He’d been consumed by the fried chicken he’d bought from a snack booth, but as soon as Sloane asked him a question his eyes were on her. Her heart thudded, as it normally came to do in the case of Luke, at his complete attention, blue eyes taking in the earrings before he nodded with a grin. “You should get them.” Sloane smiled as he offered the paper plate towards her. “And you gotta try this chicken. It’s so fucking good.”
She chuckled as Luke picked up the piece of chicken he’d been eating, holding it out to her and Sloane stepped towards him and fought the grin as she bit into the chicken he was feeding her. It wasn’t hot enough to burn her teeth, soft enough to easily rip off the chicken and its skin as Luke pulled it away for her to chew. She hummed in approval at the taste as she pulled out her wallet, trying not to laugh as she swallowed when Luke widened his eyes and nodded as if to say I know, right?
Sloane thanked the woman after paying for and receiving the jewelry in a small paper bag before her and Luke continued on. They were at some grand flea and farmer’s market in town, their friends somewhere around there as well, and it was one of the coolest places Sloane had been to. She didn’t often get to go to flea markets or the like back home, her parents much preferring she buy her items at more appropriate places, but they weren’t here to control her life, much to her relief. She was free to take in the smells of fresh fruit and cooked meats, free to admire the trinkets and jewelry people put their hard work into making, to see the plants, bongs, paintings, toys, and everything else people were selling in continuous stalls and booths.
“Wait, this is amazing,” Luke laughed, drawing Sloane’s attention to where he stood in front of a stall. Her gaze went to what he was holding, an amused laugh eliciting from her as she took in the small gnome statue he held in his hands; the gnome held a sign that read Go Away in one hand while the other had its middle finger stuck up. “I’d totally get this and put it on my yard.” He shrugged. “If I had a yard, I mean.”
Rubbing at his arm, Sloane mused, “You’re too nice to have such a mean gnome.”
Luke frowned, lips puckering into a pout as his blue eyes met Sloane’s. Defiantly, he argued, “I can be a mean guy.” Sloane wasn’t convinced.
They walked around the market for hours, a constant buzz in the indoor mart as eventually they met up with their friends. Eventually, they decided to go home, with Sloane purchasing a jar of strawberry jam as well as a cliche Daytona Beach, Fl. shirt just for kicks. She somehow managed to convince Luke to buy a cowboy hat for shits and giggles—“It’s your brand!”—and grinned childishly when he complied. She had a feeling it didn’t take much convincing on her part, but the reasoning for that was too conceited to say out loud.
The day felt long despite it being a vacation, and so Sloane helped herself to the wine when it came to be dinner time at the house. After eating, she found herself wandering down the hallway towards the back of the house her second—nope, third—glass of wine in hand as she approached the glass doors leading towards the deck. It was slightly ajar and she saw the familiar head of blonde curls as Luke sat on one of the what were actually lawn chairs. Quietly, she opened the door and slid it shut behind her, stepping out onto the deck and walking over to where he sat. The smell of salt was an interesting scent mixing with the bittersweet wine, and Sloane walked around the chair until she stood at Luke’s side.
“Am I interrupting?” she asked just as he looked up at her.
Luke smiled, legs splayed out in front of him and hand holding a bottle of Heineken. His curls danced ever so lightly in the breeze. “Not at all,” he returned, sitting up and moving his feet so he was kind of straddling the chair, gesturing to the space now created on the rest of the chair as he added, “Join me.”
There was another chair Sloane could’ve easily occupied, but she took Luke’s offer and sat down on his, sideways, as she glanced towards the ocean. She watched the waves crash in the distance through the wood pillared bannister lining the deck, peaceful in its own summery way as she let out a long sigh. “I really like it here,” Sloane hummed, the gentle breeze feeling kind of chilly against her wine flushed skin. She wasn’t drunk by any means; just a little loose in the way she held herself, a pleasant buzz in her veins. “Everything seems so. . . Uncomplicated.”
Which was a funny observation, considering how messy things still felt to Sloane, how she felt a constant little ball of anxiety dig deeper and deeper into the pit of her stomach and all she could do was try to ignore it. But sometimes she’d look towards the ocean and feel tranquility wash over her like waves. She’d watch her friends and the smile easily came. She’d feel Luke’s eyes on her and heart fluttered like it never had before.
She felt Luke shift, looking back at him to see him sit up a bit more, leaning forward as he held the bottle between his thighs. His broad shoulders were hunched, like he was trying to make himself look small, blue eyes on hers as he told her softly, “I’m sorry you’ve got all that. . . Stuff to deal with.”
“Bullshit,” Sloane surprised, prompting Luke to quirk an eyebrow as she smiled wryly. “It’s bullshit.” She took a sip of the wine as Luke watched, her gaze dropping to her glass, watching the drink ripple inside before letting out a breath. Without much thought, she added gently, “You make it less shitty.”
Luke tilted his head, throat working, looking for and probably finding the sincerity in Sloane’s gaze. She hoped he knew she meant it, despite the alcohol in her system. Even before they arrived to Florida, her and Luke had reconnected back home, and he had been there when she and Calum were both losing their minds over their arrangement. Sure, both of them had agreed to it for the benefit of the businesses, but that didn’t mean that, personally, it settled well with them. Luke attempted to calm her down by bringing over her favorite treats from her favorite bakery, and it had done the trick for a little while—as well as remind Sloane of what a thoughtful, loving guy he was.
Now, her heart ached for him, and she wanted it to stop. Bad idea.
“Yeah?” Luke hummed, the corner of his lips quirking ever so slightly but the smile could still be heard in his voice. Her own lips curled up as the glow of the moonlight lightened his eyes, wondering if she should fight the urge to be pulled in like the moon pulled the tides. Sloane was reminded of the other night, where she’d asked him to stay because even in the dark he’d been glowing, and she didn’t want to put out the light he’d brought. She was reminded of how she’d woken up the next morning with him still next to her, legs still tangled, and how she’d never felt so comfortable and content before. So right. Luke shrugged, then. “It’s the least I could do. Especially for you.”
At that, Sloane smiled curiously, raising an eyebrow with a tilt of her head as she repeated, “Especially for me?” She shifted just a bit to face him more, the ocean now at her back. “Do elaborate.”
“Uh—” Luke cut off with a sheepish laugh, head dropping and hiding the sight of his smile and dimples. She could make out the embarrassed flush in his cheeks, feeling her questioning smile widen and heart flutter as she waited for his confession, and when Luke noticed her anticipating expression, he let out another nervous laugh as he leaned back against the chair. “Come on, Sloane, you’re gonna make me say it?”
Her eyebrows shot up as she laughed as well, defending, “I don’t even know what you’re gonna say!”
Luke shook his head, smiling yet biting his lower lip as his free hand ran through his curls, pushing them back. “What, you thought I was kidding when I said you’re the prettiest girl I know?” he said, his words effectively stopping Sloane’s heart. “I’ve thought that since the day I met you, Sloane. And, just, liked you a little more and more every day since.”
Her breath caught in her throat, a tightness in her chest at his confession as she stared at him in disbelief. He was serious, a hundred percent, as he twisted his lips to the side. Now he was the one anticipating a reaction from her, and Sloane had no idea what to do. The confirmation that Luke liked her—that he still had feelings for her—was like someone dropped an explosive in her heart, butterflies erupting from it. She could feel herself blinking, like she was trying to bring herself back to reality—except that this was reality and Sloane had no idea how to face it.
The happiness was there; she could feel it vibrate in her bones. A longing for the man in front of her tightened Sloane’s throat, and if she wasn’t so desperate for something to ground her she’d have lost her grip on her glass long ago.
This wasn’t how a future business woman, future CEO, was supposed to act. She couldn’t lose control over herself every time someone surprised her like this. Except, God, this wasn’t some kind of deal or contract or investment. This was her friend—her good, close, amazing friend—telling her something that she hadn’t been aware she’d wanted to hear. And now that she was, she had no idea what to do. Where to go from here. She was at a complete loss, and she could feel what little control she thought she had on her life beginning to slip away.
The roar of the waves seemed intimidating now. A low growl in the night. Unable to say anything else, Sloane stupidly stammered, “You—you like me?”
She saw the concern seep into his blue eyes, hated that she was the cause of it. “If I’m being honest: like is an understatement but you already seem freaked out enough as it is. . .” Luke trailed off with a nervous laugh, only this time, she could hear the bit of anxiety carried within it.
Oh. Oh, crap.
“I don’t—” Sloane cut herself off, breathless in disbelief, giving a tiny shake of her head as her near distressed gaze met Luke’s concerned one. “Where do we go from here?” she whispered, as if she was afraid to voice it at all.
She felt a chill run down her spine as something softened in Luke’s eyes, a few curls fluttering across his forehead as he returned in an equally quiet voice, “That’s up to you, sweetheart.”
They’d already been sitting so closely together, it had been easy for Sloane to begin leaning in, slowly and carefully, her heart in her throat as Luke, realizing what she was doing, gradually started to move towards her, too. Sloane heard nothing but the drum of her heart, drowning out the ocean in the distance, her gaze dropping to Luke’s lips as the distance between them grew smaller and smaller.
The heat of his body was warm, inviting, drawing her in as it usually did and Sloane wanted to close the gap between them. Except her stomach was in knots; not the good, excited kind. But a scared, unsure twist that had her wondering if she wanted to do this. If she was willing to risk things by crossing this line when she knew nothing could come of it. That as much as she wanted to melt into Luke, they both would only experience pain.
Their noses slanted together, foreheads against one anothers and Sloane’s eyes fluttered shut. They were so close, mere inches away, feeling the warmth of his breath fan over her mouth and the softness of his curls tickle her skin. She wanted to kiss him. So badly. And it was when their lips brushed together that Sloane felt a bout of electricity shock through her veins did she realize what was about to happen, and her heart dropped into the pit of her stomach as she squeezed her eyes tightly.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, hearing the crack in it derived from the ache in her chest as she stopped pushing herself to kiss him. They froze, still so close, and Sloane let out a shuddering breath she felt wrack through her whole body. She hated that she felt the tears sting her closed eyes under furrowed eyebrows, her conflicting emotions getting the best of her, unable to look at Luke. Oh, God, she was gonna hurt him. The knowledge of that suddenly made her nauseous. “I—We can’t do this.”
Her eyes remained closed as Luke’s quiet, desperate voice pleaded, “Sloane—”
“We can’t.”
She couldn’t look at him. Sloane kept her eyes clenched shut as she suddenly pulled away from Luke and stood up, only opening them when she’d taken the few steps behind Luke’s chair, opening her eyes when she knew he was behind him. Her breathing was heavy, heart thundering in her tight chest as she hastily slid open the door and heard Luke call out to her, every bit as bewildered and heartbroken as she feared he would be.
But she didn’t stop. Sloane kept going, her steps quick as she went down the hall and swung a right to go up the stairs, ignoring the chatter of her oblivious friends as she ran up and went into her room. She locked the door, unsure if Luke had followed her, praying that he hadn’t. She couldn’t face him—hell, she hadn’t even been able to look at him.
Her trembling hand rested her still half full wine glass on the dresser, and Sloane let out a slow, shaky breath as she felt the first tear escape her eye. She fell to the edge of the bed, elbows on her thighs and bowing her head to press the heels of her palms against her eyes, uncaring of the makeup she was likely smudging. Breaths escaped her brokenly, raggedly. She hurt Luke. Oh, she knew she did. And her chest ached more at that fact than anything else.
So much for uncomplicated.
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Read Part 2 Here!
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@darealbellabelleoftheball
About this post you tagged me in, which I’m screenshotting because Tumblr never lets me link posts:
(Should I have scribbled out the url? I don’t want anyone getting harassed because of me, regardless of whether I agree with them....)
Anyway, thanks for thinking of me.
I try not to reblog people’s original posts to start arguments with them, so I’ll respond here.
Reinvent Thor as being a more relatable and fun character
Relatable to who? At some point I might make a post asking people why they found Ragnarok Thor more or less relatable than pre-Ragnarok Thor. I’m curious as to what the response would be.
Personally I found Ragnarok Thor to be insincere, arrogant, and manipulative, though his “save Asgard” thing was obviously good. I agree with the goal, but his means...not so much.
ALSO. “Reinventing” a character is the exact opposite of what should be done at the end of a trilogy. At that point, you wrap up the plot threads and character arcs. You do NOT throw them all out and start with something that’s regressed even beyond where the character was at the beginning. It’s just not how trilogies work.
If you want to reinvent the character for LOLs, call it what it is—a parody. Parody is a perfectly legit genre. It just makes it clear that it’s not to be taken as part of the original canon.
With a far more extensive power set
Thor was already really powerful. Yeah, the Thor-nado is pretty cool, but he was doing fine without it...?
As well as making him the star of his own GD movie for once without worrying about some other character overshadowing him
You know how you make a character more interesting? It’s not by just flattening all the competition. It’s by giving them more internal conflict. That’s one of the reasons Loki’s so popular. He’d had internal conflict to deal with from the get-go.
They could’ve had Thor finally realize that Odin did screw up, and it wasn’t just a one-time thing, and he wasn’t actually a great parent (or person in general). Through that, he could realize that maybe the things Odin always told him were wrong. Maybe, for instance, Loki wasn’t 100% evil and Thor’s inferior. Maybe that Thor had himself made some mistakes at least as bad, and come to terms with that. He could’ve broken out of his toxic family dynamic.
That would’ve been a lot more compelling than erasing everything that made Thor, Thor.
And established that his arcs from the first two movies were realized on the level of him assuming control of his powers on Odin’s level—assuming ultimate worthiness
....
Why is aspiring to be like Odin in any way a good conclusion to Thor’s character arcs? And “worthiness” is entirely based on Odin’s professed values.
What would’ve been better is if Thor had finally broken free of Odin’s arbitrary worthiness paradigm. He’d been letting Odin define his worth for the previous movies. He realized that Odin was flawed for a bit in TDW but was back to submitting himself to Odin’s judgement at the end of the movie. It’s time for him to finish that journey. Yet in this movie it’s Odin (or rather Odin’s memory) that Thor turns to for strength.
And Thor honestly does not seem to change at all throughout the movie, character-wise. He starts off snarky and arrogant. He finishes snarky and arrogant with a throne and a missing eye (and no planet).
Introduce Valkyrie
Love the character, don’t love how they used her. Seriously, “and suddenly you’re overcome by the urge to do the right thing?” Five minutes after she did just that? Please.
Give Heimdall more than two minutes of screen time
Admittedly I like Heimdall better in this movie, so I’ll leave this alone.
Destroy Asgard
Why is this a good thing?
No, really, why is destroying Asgard better than, say, exploring its culture and history—and the people the movie repeatedly refers to—in a more nuanced light?
Reintroduce Hulk with the ability to speak and show emotion beyond smashing things
If I remember correctly, Hulk is a manifestation of Bruce’s anger and fear from his abusive childhood. (I don’t know if I’m phrasing this correctly at all. Someone who’s more into Bruce and Hulk could probably help. :/)
Ragnarok did not exactly explore that in any way.
And Hulk HAD emotions besides “smash”. Look at his reaction when Tony was falling out of the portal in Avengers. Hulk has real intelligence to him.
F colonialist lives!
This really isn’t my area of expertise at all...but I’m pretty sure the thing they were saying was bad was the imperialism, not colonialism. They’re not the same thing. And even that was confused by the whole venerating-Odin thing. I believe others have gone into this in more detail.
Korg is skinny!
I don’t even know what this is supposed to mean...?!
Contain good and funny jokes
This is entirely subjective. For instance, several people I know find butt jokes funny. I find them kind of immature and prefer dry humor. Neither of us is wrong in our preferences. It’s just not something you can argue.
Conversely, this movie also has Loki joke about his own suicide attempt. So.
Was directed by the MCU’s first director of color
I didn’t even know Waititi was a man of color when I first started disliking Ragnarok.
Controversial opinion here, but a movie that contradicts previous canon and has a plot as airtight as a colander is still a crappy franchise movie no matter who wrote it.
Fix Loki’s sad broody boy problem
Loki does not have a “sad broody boy” problem. He’s genuinely mentally ill, in no small part due to spending over a thousand years as the scapegoat in a narcissistic family. It’s also due to spending who-knows-how-long falling in space (see how that affected Tony) then another who-knows-how-long getting tortured by a purple space grape. That’s a lot more than going through an emo phase or something.
And this movie does not “fix” Loki’s mental illness. It waves it away like something that was never that bad to begin with, which is very much not the case.
It also erased Loki’s fierce intelligence from the previous movies, and his anger, and his strategy. It turned Loki from courageous to cowardly (except when the plot said so). It ignored Loki’s old reserve and trust issues.
Examples: You can’t tell me he couldn’t have thought up a better plan than “get help”. He could’ve disguised both him and Thor as more Sakaarian guards with his illusions. I just came up with that in five seconds. No way would that not occur to him at least as quickly.
Loki had the nerve to sass Laufey and the Other and Odin even when any one of them could’ve hurt him in previous movies. In Ragnarok he’s terrified of the Hulk to the point of trying to run.
In previous movies, Loki didn’t trust anyone enough to talk about any of the things that’d happened (aggravated since no one had even asked). In Ragnarok, as mentioned above, he joked about his own suicide—to a bunch of strangers.
Make fun of Thor: The Dark World
Again, why is this a good thing?
Ragnarok is one of the best Marvel movies for the “prisoners with jobs” joke alone
Subjective, again.
#marvel#anti ragnarok#mcu loki#mcu thor#anti new thor#mcu odin#tw: suicide attempt#tw: suicide mention#gagnarok#loki meta#thor meta#the hulk#bruce banner
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