"  Trust  Me,  The  Last  Thing  I  Want  To  Be  Doing  Is  Wasting  My  Energy  On 

COOPER KOCH — Calvin Klein by Mert Alas (2025)

ELLA PURNELL Biting Sophie Nélisse behind the scenes on Yellowjackets S03E03

oooooooooooooooooh the way i want to make a gideon glick character 🥹

Someone being patient with you on your bad days is one of the softest forms of love

i  have  been  slaaaaaacking  &  i  am  fully  aware  of  that.  do  apologize.  life  got  a  bit  hectic  in  the  past  two  weeks.  but  my  ultimate  goal  is  to  get  back  into  a  decent  activity  this  week  !!

OLIVIA HOLT reveals which slasher villains she would 'fix' or 'dump' (x)

People who love cold weather are fucking weird. You like to freeze? You like to shiver?? You like when you take a step outside and the air stings your skin???

penny doesn’t respond at first. there’s too much swelling in her chest, too many words tangled somewhere between her ribs and her throat, too much that could come out wrong if she rushes it. she looks at drew — really looks — and it almost breaks her. because despite everything, despite the silence and the confusion and the ache that’s been her constant companion for the past two weeks, she still feels it. that pull. that unshakeable gravity that keeps drawing her back to this person no matter how many times she tries to build walls around her heart. “do you know how cruel it was?” she finally says, voice soft but shaking. “not what you did before. not the past. not the cheating.” a pause. her eyes sting, and she blinks hard, willing the tears to wait. “i’m talking about this. you just — disappeared. without warning. after everything we’ve been through. after all the work i had done to get to a point where i’ve been dancing around the idea of us again. letting you back in..  and i know it wasn’t about me or you trying to hurt me, not directly, but god, drew, it did.” her arms cross, more for grounding than defense. “i gave you space. because i thought maybe something had happened. that maybe you needed time. and i didn’t want to be the person who made it worse by crowding you. but every single day that went by without hearing from you — it started to feel less like you needed space and more like you’d decided i didn’t need to be kept. like you’d just… left. again.” she shakes her head, correcting herself. “no. not again. because you don’t do that. you don’t disappear. not like this. that’s why it hurt so much. because it’s not who you are — at least not who i thought you were anymore.”

she swallows the lump in her throat, pushing forward before the emotion chokes her off completely. “and then you walk in here like a hurricane in parkers flannel and a bandeau, making jokes and sniffing candles, like my brain hasn’t been chewing itself alive. i thought something happened to you, drew. i thought maybe everything that has happened lately was something you started to regret and you just didn’t know how to say it. or worse — that you were hurting and didn’t think you could come to me. that part nearly destroyed me.” she sinks back onto the couch, her knees pulled up, arms wrapping around them. “i don’t want to keep doing this push-and-pull every time life gets hard. i don’t want to be an afterthought, or a burden, or the person who gets left behind when everything gets too loud. i want to be someone you trust enough to stay with — even when it’s messy. especially when it’s messy.” a breath. “i believe in second chances, drew. i believe people can change. that they do change. and i let you back in because i felt like we were building something again. something good. something real. and i want to believe that wasn’t just me romanticizing the ruins. i want to believe this still matters to you.” she finally looks up at her again, eyes tired but clear. “but i need you to be honest with me. not just tonight. not just when it’s dramatic and everything’s falling apart. i need you to show up — and stay. because i don’t know how to give any less than all of me. and if i do that again… i need to know you won’t go quiet. and i need to know i’m not making the biggest mistake of my life when i say that i will always, wholeheartedly be yours. after everything, you’re all i want and all i’ll ever want.”

drew’s hands tremble, unknowing if it’s from the weight of the confession penny has just laid bare or the excruciating clarity that comes with hearing everything penny’s been carrying. she's not ignorant to burdens she causes, the mess she leaves in her wake. but to be reminded of her shortcomings never gets easier. her chest tightens, suffocating her under the heavy truth of it all. she wants to speak, wants to apologize, to make it right somehow -- but the words feel too small, too useless in the face of what she’s done. instead, all she can do is look at penny, the rawness of the moment cutting deeper than any act of harm she could have committed against herself. penny's words are still ringing in her ears, each one heavier than the last, and drew can feel the guilt gnawing at her. it makes her want to bolt again. but she can’t. no more coward's game.

"i'm not going to lie to you. not anymore." this isn't a bullshit vow. not a promise that be seamlessly debunked in a day's time but rather an opening line to her inner monologue. "what i expect from you is for you to worry. that's what you do. you drown yourself in baths, and tea, and candles, and wicked, and worry. i expect that. i also expect the tears. cruelly, i expect the forgiveness. i know it doesn't come easily but it always does with time. it's fucked up for me to expect it. but that's just who you are." drew rubs the day's old mascara from her eyes. she likely looks exhausted, defeated by the repercussions of her own actions. penny's plush sofa has never looked so comfortable. everything about this place makes her haunted. no wonder each time she returns she's reminded of her mistakes.

and all of her expectations are proven right at penny's confession. the words sound like they're being spoken in a chapel. soft, asking for forgiveness for the sin of being too forgiving. it feels like they're in an alcoholic's anonymous meeting. except penny is addicted to drew -- and drew is addicted to fucking up. drew’s eyes flicker back up to penny’s, and for the first time in a long time, there’s no deflection, no shields, just the painful truth. "i don’t know how to fix this. i don’t know how to fix me. but, i’m here. i know i disappeared --" drew releases a breath she'd been holding on account of penny's words. she wouldn't have been surprised if her features had washed purple. "but you're so brilliant. i read all the playbill reviews and i was fuckin' smiling ear to ear. because to know you - to see you is to be absolutely enamored by you. how am i ever supposed to feel like i deserve you when i've never done one thing right?" the distance between them closes as drew crosses the floor, lacing a stray hair behind penny's ear. "you're a star, pen. you don't need me to tell you that. but you need to believe it yourself. you need to believe that you deserve more than this." white teeth chew and fiddle nervously at her lower lip. "but on the off chance, you do realize it and make the reckless decision to love me anyways. i'm here. i'll always be here. even if it's by carrier pigeon or up in the god damn sky, i'm here. and i'm yours. even if you're not mine."

geraldine viswanathan via instagram

céleste  accepted  the  bottle  without  breaking  eye  contact,  fingers  grazing  his  just  long  enough  to  make  it  seem  incidental  —  a  calculated  accident,  if  anything.  she  brought  the  bottle  to  her  lips,  taking  a  sip  —  not  out  of  need,  but  because  she  didn’t  mind  letting  the  silence  stretch  either.  his  reply  lingered  between  them,  deliberate,  measured.  a  soft  breath  of  amusement  slipped  past  her  lips,  almost  like  she  was  entertaining  the  thought—before  she  tilted  her  head  slightly,  gaze  dragging  over  him  in  a  way  that  was  half  assessment,  half  something  else.  something  more  dangerous. most  people,  standing  in  a  penthouse  like  this,  would  probably  be  fixated  on  how  he  got  here  —  the  money,  the  name,  the  effortless  access  to  things  others  could  only  dream  of.  but  none  of  that  had  been  her  first  thought.  his  wealth,  his  lifestyle,  the  privileges  that  came  with  it  —  didn’t  impressed  her.  money  made  things  easier,  not  more  interesting.  and  alec?  he  was  interesting.  not  because  of  what  he  had,  but  because  of  whatever  was  lurking  beneath  the  curated  exterior.  but  that  didn’t  mean  she  was  about  to  hand  him  that  realization. "mm."  the  sound  was  thoughtful,  considering,  but  not  entirely  convinced.  she  let  her  eyes  flick  over  him  —  not  in  admiration,  but  in  calculation.  like  she  was  still  deciding  exactly  where  he  fit  in  her  world.  "so  what  you’re  saying  is…"  she  let  the  words  hang,  her  lips  curving  just  slightly.  "you’re  naturally  inclined  to  be  this  insufferable?"  she  took  another  sip,  before  setting  the  bottle  down  with  a  quiet  clink  against  the  counter.  then,  with  the  faintest  smirk,  she  met  his  gaze  head-on.  "noted."  she  took  a  quick  gaze  across  the  new  york  city  skyline.  “at  least  you're  not  getting  exhausted  trying  to  impress  people  then.  more  energy  to  place  elsewhere.”

his smirk didn’t falter, but he captured the way her gaze moved — perceptive, knowing. most people didn’t look that closely, or if they did, they were too busy being in awe of his wealth to question what they found. celeste, apparently, was neither. it felt as though she had already sized him up and decided exactly where he fit into her world. that was new. most people were too distracted by the money, the name, the lifestyle to see past the surface. they played along, eager to impress, but céleste? she wasn’t playing at all. at her comment about the water, he chuckled before quipping, “hydration is important, céleste. i thought you, of all people, would appreciate that.” he moved toward the built-in fridge, prying it open and grabbing a random bottle without even checking the brand. voss, apparently. twisting off the cap, he held it out to her. “but if this doesn’t meet your standards, i’m sure i can have something imported. nothing but the best for my trainer, right?” her next words, though, caught him slightly off guard. not that he showed it. you don’t have to try and impress me. he let the silence stretch just long enough to make it noticeable, his eyes lingering on her frame. it was almost inscrutable, but there was something there. maybe the smallest crack in all that control. he eased a little closer, just enough to minimize some of the space between them, but not enough to cross any lines. not yet. “who says i’m trying?” his composure was level, tone light and teasing. “maybe this is just me.”