Recently went from a Stucky/Marvel blog to a mainly kpop (-ish) one so need more blogs to follow! Reblog if you post any/primarily these and I’ll check out your blog!
BTS (and everything that follows) EXO (preferably all members, old ones too. I’m Chanyeol bias though) Seventeen Sistar/Hyolyn CL (the queen herself) Jay Park (not really kpop but you know) Zico Blackpink iKON and so on, thanks!
It’s funny seeing L stans hate on Clarke for her actions in 4x10. Like, dudes, you defended and romanticized L’s betrayal in 2x15 up the wazzo last season… but you can’t do the same for Clarke when she’s doing the same thing?
Double standards, indeed. Stay away from Clarke, folks.
The name echoed in whispers in his mind, vibrating in his head. Such a simple name, really. Short, one syllable, clipped. Really, truly just a name. No, it was the woman it belonged to that made it special. That made Jamie want to elongate the name, taste every letter.
It was his own personal poem, musical and song-like. A lullaby that dreamily drifted through his ears, lulling him into calmness.
And why should he feel so strongly about this woman? A woman he just met. A practical stranger.
He knew why, of course. No, it wasn’t just her beauty, though that didn’t hurt his impression of her. She was smart. Professor smart. Biology professor smart. And effortlessly funny. And kind. But, most of all, she was transparent. He felt as if he knew her in one conversation; her eyes stained glass windows into her mechanical mind, her face twisted with every emotion she felt.
He was infatuated with her: her voice, her eyes, her smile, her mind…
He tested her name out again, speaking to the darkness of early morning:
“Jamie? Jamie!” He shook himself from his thoughts, the large dining room coming into focus. His sister was speaking to him.
“I’m sorry, what?”
“What’s going on with ye, Jamie? Yer mind is somewhere else.” Jenny’s eyebrows were drawn in concern. Yes, his mind was elsewhere, but he wasn’t prepared to tell his family exactly where.
“Oh, aye. I’m just…tired. I was up late last night.” Jamie glanced around the table at his family.Sunday dinner at Jenny’s, a tradition that they had started when their father died. The family had grown since then, though. Jenny married Ian, Willie married Nora. Both couples had spawned 2 children each, and Jenny was round with another.
“Ye need to get more sleep, Sawny. Yer not sleeping enough,” Willie interjected.
“Sawny…Sawnyyyyyy…” Willie’s youngest, Elinor, sang sleepily, and dropped her head on her father’s shoulder.
“Aye, I ken. Just, ye never know when ye’ll be inspired.”
“I dinna understand it a bit,” Willie admitted, taking a large bite of pasta. “But I’ll always support ye. However. Ye need to be healthy.”
“I’ll work on it.” Willie placed his hand on his brother’s shoulder, squeezing slightly, before turning his full attention to the meal in front of him. A bottomless pit, that man was.
“Anyway, Jamie,” Jenny interjected. “I was asking what yer working on now?” With a little bit of natural artistic talent, but never taking it further than that, Jenny was always interested in Jamie’s ‘next big project.’
“Ach, just small canvases. Nothing special, really.” Very special, actually, but Jamie didn’t want to tell them about Claire.
“Nothing special? Ye just said yer getting inspired in the middle of the night!” Jenny laughed, blue eyes crinkling.
“Weel, I’ve just been painting…pretty things. Flowers and such. Nothing too…inspired. Just, when it’s in my heid, I have to do it, ken?”
“Nay, but I’ll pretend I do.” Jenny wasn’t convinced, and Jamie knew it. The way her eyes narrowed, and lips pursed; that was her concentration face. He would be asked about it when they were alone. He should definitely leave before there was a chance of that. “How’s the meal, loves?”
“Fantastic as always, sis,” Willie mumbled through a mouthful.
“Chew wif yer mouf closed, Da,” Elinor woke up long enough to say.
“Aye, Peach. Thank ye.”
It was unusual for Jamie to go to the park after Sunday dinner, but there he was. It wasn’t a conscious decision; his body was heading in that direction before his mind could catch up.
He saw Claire from a distance, her dark mane hard to ignore. Instead of sitting on her usually bench, she was pacing the path, stretching her arms above her head.
Suddenly, she doubled over, grabbing her foot.
“Fuck!” Claire whined, examining her toe. Just a scrape, nothing life-threatening. But, a stubbed toe never felt too good.
“Watch her mouth. There are children present.” She jumped, unaware she had company. She turned to face her companion, a man with the sunset in his hair and a smirk on his lips.
“Jamie! You frightened me!” He blushed.
“I’m sorry, I dinna mean to.” He looked positively abashed with his pink cheeks and downcast eyes.
“No! It’s fine. I wasn’t expecting you. How are you?”
“Good, good. Just had dinner. Are ye alright?” He motioned to her foot, which she was still holding onto.
“Oh, yes. A stubbed toe.” She winked. “I think I’ll survive.”
“Good to hear, Sassenach.” Sassenach? What does that mean. She was about to ask, but he cut off her thoughts. “So…um…can I ask ye something?”
“You just did.” A dumb joke, she knew, but she wanted to see him smile again.
“Aye. Another thing, then.”
“Do ye… Could I, maybe, get yer phone number?” Whatever she was expecting…that was not it. She was undoubtedly pleased.
“Oh. Um. Yes, let me see your phone.”
“Let me see yers as well.” They swapped phones, typing numbers furiously.
“You can text me anytime, Jamie.”
“Aye, I will. I mean, yes. Sure.” Flustered. He was flustered, and it warmed Claire to know she had such an effect.
“I better be off. Got to be up early tomorrow. But… I’ll speak with you soon?”
Jamie woke with a start, the shrill ringing of his cell phone hitting his sensitive ears. What time was it?
2:54 a.m. the clock told him.
He glanced over at his phone on the nightstand. And thrill ran through him. Underneath the bold name “Claire Beauchamp,” was a picture of her, taken not 12 hours ago. He didn’t realize she had put a photo in her contact information. He didn’t realize she took a picture at all.
But, even more surprising, why was she calling him? He wasn’t angry or annoyed, quite the opposite really. It was just…a shock.
Steeling himself, he pressed the little green button in the corner.