#ally darling

[livelovecaliforniadreams]

#love this movie #cute things #my heart #whats your number #chris evans #anna faris #ally darling #colin shea #rom com #romantic comedy #movie #movies #filmedit #filmedits #gif #gifs #gifset #love

[ab4eva]

💕 if you don't know my name by now we got problems lol. and surprise me with one of our boys princess.

So funny story. Ally insisted that she sent in a request for my 500 follower celly and was a little bit bummed that I never filled it. But I told her, three weeks ago, that I never got one. And we came to the conclusion it was a very vivid dream.

Until tonight. When I opened my actual inbox (which I never look at because I’ve never had anything but one other request come through there? They always show up on my notifs?) Imagine my surprise, horror and delight when I saw Ally’s request. And one from dear @woundmetender that I will get out quickly as well!

So Ally darling, Kitty Cat - here is your long-awaited mood board. Sorry for accidentally gaslighting you. I love you. 💗

#ab4eva’s 500 celly #ally darling #kitty cat and princess #accidental gaslighting #i love you #austin butler #elvis presley #elvisabutler #avengen

[sylvansleuth]

MY DARLING BOY!

#dimension 20 #fantasy high #fantasy high junior year #d20 spoilers #fhjy spoilers #dnd #d20 #dropout #fhjy #brennan lee mulligan #lou wilson #ally beardsley #brian murphy #bill seacaster #captain bill seacaster #fabian seacaster #fabian aramais seacaster #kalvaxus #sylvansleuthings #actual tears came to my eyes i cant believe how bad this got me #me too fabian lmao #my darling boy

[heretherebedork]

How to be a Real Ally and truly seize the moment when it comes.

#wedding impossible #how to be an ally #don't except a lot of thoughts from me on this #i am literally only watching for the gaybie #there's also like an entire show #but he's darling and idc about anyone else #he deserves happiness and acceptance and less shitty people

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Crushed 10

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, manipulation, cheating, sleazy behaviour, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your next door neighbours hook up, bringing to surface deep-seated feelings.

Characters: Colin Shea, Jonathan Pine

Note: It’s Monday and you know a bitch is miserable.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you like my dog loves belly rubs (that’s a lot). Take care. 💖

“It’s fortunate I was with you,” Jonathan says as the cops get back in the cruiser. “I couldn’t imagine to think of you all alone.”

You face your building and repress a shudder. You don’t know what you would’ve done alone. Colin may be with Ally but you’re not sure that can do much to buffer him. He always seems to find an opportunity to haunt your doorway, and now, you barely have a door.

“I should call a locksmith. And my landlord,” you say, “hopefully it’s not too late to get this fixed.”

“Oh, dear,” he looks at his watch, “it is near eight.”

You cringe as you take out your phone, “well, you don’t need to worry about me. You can go home. I’d hate to keep you any longer.”

“I can’t leave you, not as things stand,” he shakes his head, “you go and call your landlord, I’d like to have a look at your door and see if we can’t figure something out.”

“Really, you don’t–”

“I’d be remiss if I didn’t,” he insists.

You’re tired. You don’t want to argue and he’s not doing anything so wrong. He’s looking out for you and you barely have the energy to deal with this mess.

You dial your landlord first. He doesn’t answer and you leave a voicemail. Typical. He never seems to be around.

You bring up Google and scroll through the directory of locksmiths. They’re all closed or as good as. Fuck. What are you going to do? You suppose you can barricade yourself with the table or drag out your dresser.

Jonathan emerges from the building and you look up as he comes down the steps. He strides along the walkway and you lower your phone.

“Landlord’s not picking up. Can’t find a locksmith either,” you huff. “I think I could probably just lodge the door shut–”

“Oh, I have an idea,” he goes to his car and you follow. He opens the trunk and searches until he finds a bungie cord.

“It won’t be entirely secure but we’ll make sure to close up. Perhaps you might ask your neighbour, Alison, was it? If she might keep an eye out. There should be a hotel you might spend the night at, somewhere safe–”

“A hotel? I can’t afford–”

“Not to worry, the company will cover the cost. I daresay that emergency fund you recently unearthed in your work may just account for it–”

“I couldn’t– I can’t take that money. It’s for medical emergencies–”

“Not entirely.”

“It just doesn’t feel right.”

“Hmm, yes, I suppose, I can understand,” he folds the bungee cord in his hands, “do you have anyone you might stay with? I know your neighbour offered but I wasn’t sure if you were comfortable with that.”

“No, my sisters live out of town and my parents… are still back home,” you pick at your lip. “I can figure it out. You’ve done enough.”

“In good conscience, I must insist,” he squeezes the thick cord, “if I may be so forward, I have a spare room. You might take it for the night. You could grab your things and–”

“Jonathan,” you wave your hands, “that’s a bit much. I can’t–”

“I know it is rather unconventional and I do not mean to make you uncomfortable or anything like that. I would respect your space. We are after all, colleagues,” he says, “I’m afraid however, if that option does not work, I would be required to spend the night outside your door.”

“What?”

“I may be a bit paranoid but I have spent some years in unsavoury places and cannot help but be overly cautious. And we cannot be sure that whoever left your door in such a state won’t return,” he tuts, “by the looks of it, they were rather intent upon their entrance.”

You grip your head, your phone against your hair. It’s too much. You just want this day to end. It seems like every one is longer than the last. You drop your arms and shake your head.

“I don’t know what else to do,” you murmur, “I can’t…” 

Your lip trembles. You don’t know why Colin did it. To fuck with you. To scare you some more. Or because he actually means to do something. That morning flashes in your head, the way he loomed over you, the stone in his voice, the hammering in your chest. You look down at the crack along the corner of your screen.

“Darling, take a breath,” Jonathan coaxes, “it’s alright, you’re safe.”

“I don’t know why this is happening to me,” you croak, “I’m a nice person. I try to be. He- they— whoever did this…” you let your voice trail off before you say too much. He wouldn’t believe you if you told him. You’re sure even he noticed that Colin was only ever stringing you along. “I… Thank you. You’re… you don’t have to do all this.”

“Ah, but you don’t know me well enough or you would realise that I must,” he smiles gently, “times like these, it’s best to take it step by step. So, we’ll go up, you can pack a bag, then we will finagle the door, and set off.”

You look at him, almost pouting as you hold back tears. It seems like the best option yet you can’t help but doubt your judgment. You were so wrong about Colin. What other choice do you have? Once again, you are entirely helpless. Pathetic. 

You could choke on your own stupidity. Jonathan is your boss, he is being nice, but as usual you want to make everything more than it is. All you know is that things are usually the exact opposite of what you think.

💗

You gaze up at the reflective facade of Jonathan’s building. He lives in one of the nicer neighbourhoods, the sort you only ever saw in pictures. You never had the reason or means to come all the way out there. The realisation makes you feel even worse for his chauffeuring tendencies.

He already has your bag in hand as you get out. You follow him to the door wordlessly. Fatigue weighs you down, slumping your shoulders and filling your feet with lead. He’s content to guide you along without much said, with only twiddled fingers and fleeting glances.

An elevator takes you up to his floor and he shows you into a spacious condo. The place puts your apartment to shame. The front room has a whole wall of windows that look out onto the city, a set of ivory curtains pushed to either side that drape almost to the floor. The decor is pristine and white, with some silver mixed in.

“Allow me to get you settled,” he shuts the door behind you as he enters. 

“Kitchen,” he gestures to his right, “you may help yourself to whatever you wish. Coffee, tea, what have you. I must admit, my shelves are still a bit scant.” He herds you further inside, “the front room of course, and to your left,” he points down the hall, “the bedroom at the end is mine, the bathroom is just between that and the guestroom. Let me show you that.”

He directs you ahead of him and you make your way down the hall. He taps a door and you turn back as he opens it. He reaches around the frame to flick on the light.

“I will leave your bag inside but request that you let me change out the sheets. As a courtesy.”

“It’s really not that big a deal.”

“To me it is,” he says, “please, you may take some time on the couch. Relax a little.”

“Right,” you accept. You have no resistance left in you. You're here, it’s a nice place, and you have nothing to complain about. 

You retreat to the front room and slide your phone from your pocket. You sit and light it up, nearly dropping it as you see a notification from Colin. You gulp and swipe it away, too afraid to even look at it. You put your phone on the round table by your elbow and lean on the armrest, cradling your head as you close your eyes.

Your body reclines without thought. You sink into the plush ivory cushion and let the tension seep out little by little. Despite the upheaval of the night, you’re ready to hunker down and pass out.

“All done,” Jonathan declares as he emerges and you straighten up with a snort. “Oh, dear, you must be tired. I was going to offer dinner but perhaps you would be better in bed…” he claps his hands and pauses, his eyes averting in thought before a tinge of red colours his cheeks, “I meant, that perhaps you might retire for the night.” He pulls his hands apart and gives a nervous chuckle, “oh my, I have said very much.”

“Yeah, I think you’re right,” you yawn and stand, ignoring his embarrassment. “I’m ready for the day to end.”

“I cannot blame you, darling,” he coos, “should you wish for anything, you may ask it. I will be off to bed shortly myself but don’t be shy, just a knock on the door.”

“You’re too nice.”

“I must accuse you of the same,” he kids, “please, it almost pains me to see you so worn. You deserve some sleep.”

“Yeah, I earned it,” you try to joke but it comes out dull and flat, “sorry, it’s just… I owe you big time.”

“A favour is not transactional,” he affirms as he stands back and watches you inch towards the hallway, “if you wish to repay me, you will get some sleep, fawn. Darling, er, sleep is a fine cure to a long day.”

“Mmm,” you hum and drag your feet, already longing for the depths of your unconscious, “I’ll see you in the morning then.”

“Good night,” he calls back, his shadow lingering at the mouth of the hall, “til the morning.”

You let yourself into the spare room and ease the door shut. You move around the room daintily. You’re almost afraid to disturb any part of it. You feel like an intruder still.

You find your bag and dig out your nightgown. The straight cut white fabric with the pink bow along the neckline. Plain and a bit outdated, but you find them cozy. You change and turn out the light, feeling through the dark to the bed. You roll beneath the covers and let out a heavy breath.

Your muscles release and your nerves calm. You sink slowly, drifting into the darkness as your eyes close on their own. You hear yourself snoring before you fall completely into your unconscious, buried beneath the shroud of exhaustion.

💗

The world comes back to you in pieces. First the distant noise of traffic far below the condo. Then the dim light that slips between the curtains. Then the cool air nipping at the prickly skin on your arm. The softness of the duvet cocooned around your middle. You groan and bat your lashes, trying to clear away the sleepy haze. 

You stare at the ceiling and break free of the blanket. You stretch across the mattress and groan. You roll your shoulders and sit up. It can’t be that late, your alarm hasn’t even gone off. You feel like you’ve slept forever. 

You shift stiffly across the bed and look around. It takes a moment to remember where you are. Not at home. Somewhere strange. With Jonathan. The oddity of the situation returns to you and has you on edge at once.

You look at the single night table but don’t find your phone there. You squint and rub your eye sockets. Must be in your bag– wait! You left it out in the front room. You remember now. Frig, you were so tired you didn’t even think.

You cross the room and creep out into the hall. You’re quiet as you come down the hallway. The condo is bright as you enter the front room. You find your phone where you left it and quickly swipe it up before heading back to the guest room.

As you do, you see the time on your screen and stop just at the door. No! 10:30! Oh fuck! Oh fuck! Wait, why wouldn’t he wake you up? Why–

A click draws your head up and you stand dumbly staring as Jonathan emerges from the bathroom. Your mouth almost falls open as a cloud of steam follows him. He wears only a towel around his waist and lets out a surprised noise as he quickly grips the top and faces you.

“Oh, I didn’t know you were awake,” he greets sheepishly, “I hope I didn’t wake you.”

You look at him wide-eyed. You won’t look down at his tightly muscled stomach or at his broad shoulders. You won’t think about how even at his barest, he is so tall and big and–

“N-no,” you sputter, “I… it’s after ten.”

“Well, yes, it is late, but I uh, tried to wake you. You were not rousing, so I thought I’d give you the day off.”

“What? I can’t miss a day.”

“You can make up the time, if you like,” he offers, “I didn’t want to leave you alone here. I thought it might be rude so I’ve also booked the day to myself.”

“Oh, god, I’m so sorry, I wasn’t– I didn’t mean to–” You shake your head as you furrow your brow through the doorway. You look back to him and catch his eyes just below your face. “I… I’ll figure it out.”

“It would allow you time to call your landlord, I suppose,” he suggests.

“Yeah, maybe,” you say evasively and edge into the doorway, “I… I’m just going to get dressed.”

“Yes, I will do the same,” he gives a soft chuckle and backs away.

You close the door without looking back. It is only then you realise how hot you are. On fire. Your cheeks, your chest, your neck. You feel like you’re being consumed.

You put your phone on the night table and go to your bag on the small round backed chair in the corner. Beside it is a long mirror. You look at your reflection and see how the slat of sunlight shines through the fabric, illuminating your figure through the plain cut. You look ridiculous in that nightgown, like Mary Bo Peep or some caricature of a real person.

You pull out the clothes you packed for work and dress without looking at yourself again. As restful as your night was, the prospect of the day ahead of you is already draining.

#crushed #colin shea #dark colin shea #dark!colin shea #colin shea x reader #colin shea x ally darling #jonathan pine #jonathan pine x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #multifandom #the night manager #what's your number?

[aimeecarreros]

JU HAKNYEON (더보이즈) ‘ROAR’ - The Boyz BE ORIGINAL [Unfiltered Cam]

#tbzinc #kpopccc #kpopco #ultkpopnetwork #malegroupsnet #dailybg #the boyz #tbz #tbzedit #haknyeon #ju haknyeon #flashing #epilepsy #eyestrain #**finally.mp3 #happy birthday you precious darling #also hi ally bwahahahahaha

[allimocha]

Aikatsu OCs - Chiyo Kaneko

Here’s another Idol of Darling Star and the roommate of Ai!

The school beauty and Drama club president:

Chiyo Kaneko

Age: 15

Idol-Type: Sexy

Birthday: July 30th

Brand: Dolly Devil

Courses: Idol, Acting

School: Darling Star Academy (second-year)

Clubs: Drama Club (President)

Unit: N/A

Kirakiratter Username: ChiyoQueen

Favorite Food: Black Tea

Special Talent: Acting

A very conceited young lady, despite her usually nice disposition. Chiyo comes from a very rich family, and her mother is a very well known actress, Mari Kaneko. Wanting to follow in her footsteps, she joined the drama club and eventually took over as president the next year. Is very tough on the members of the club, but does it out of a love for the craft. She wants everyone to do their best, so treats them in a way she was treated growing up. She’s the middle child of her family, and so is treated more harshly, despite also being overlooked compared to her siblings. This only made her work harder to get more attention. Definitely a hard person to get close to, as her self absorbed nature causes her to look down on others, no matter how much she wants to help.

A bit vain to be sure ha… But still a cutie nonetheless!

But here’s our second idol! There’s more where that came from, so stick around!

That's all, Byiiieee~!

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Read More

Some extra things~

Here’s Chiyo’s Idol Aura:

Bonus Video: Pizza

#art #black artist #alli’s ocs #ref sheet #aikatsu #Darling Star Academy #aikatsu oc

[artnijna]

Was shown this cute website and now I’m invested can’t wait to find out more about my new neighbors

#wally darling #welcome home #this content is right up my ally for child show based horror #horror #creepy art

[emily84]

the way some people on here are defending Palestine by completely rewriting what happened on oct 7th is mindboggling. you can deny it but i've seen your narrative go from "let's cheer for the resistance" very quickly to "you cannot sanitize a revolution, decades of oppression will inevitably breed violence" when the videos came out, to very smoothly "oh all those videos were fake the deaths were all caused by israel actually, hamas did nothing wrong" to today's "the attack were a fever dream concocted by israel" or "well that doesn't matter anyway it's in the past" is fucking pitiful to watch.

you think the revolution cannot be peaceful. okay. then you don't need to blatantly lie, overlook, or minimize what happened on october 7th. it literally doesn't matter that you think palestinians have suffered and continue to suffer a lot more. those two things are true at the same time.

this isn't a "my side is more moral / my side is spotless and just and righteous" thing where the more righteous side gets purity points for their struggle. especially because you're literally using the language israel is using in their deranged public tweets.

just say free palestine and argue your point without fucking altering the truth. free palestine is already a sentence; calling for a ceasefire and whatever future state solution/s you have in mind are already the fucking point. calling out isreal's war crimes is already the point.

you don't need to "well, actually" it for it to be, what, more digestible?? if israel's war crimes are already very real and documented and have been for decades, and they very much fucking are, then you don't need to season that with shitty conspiracist lies

#my position on i/p is clear #but you are making half your posts unrebloggable and impossible to cosign #especially western leftist 'allies' who have literally no skin in the game reblogging that shit #you'll say i'm arguing semantics but darlings so are you #shitty conspiracist lies only give israel supporters an excuse to call you antisemitic #and then not engage at all with the real and legitimate fucking things you're trying to put across

[belovedcarrion]

I just realized the second time I reloaded had to do with Astarion too!

I had made it to the goblin camp, right, and ended up following priestess gut to "fix the shadows in my mind" and unsurprisingly she didn't want my companions with me when she did this

But I actually came up with a really clever plan!

I had Astarion sneak into the room and hide in the shadows so that if anything went wrong he could help me!

So I continued the conversations and identified the liquid as a sleep potion and I got to the point where I could either attack her or drink it

I figured y'know what Astarion is in the room, he'll save me

So I drank the sleep potion, assuming I'd be able to take over Astarion and decide what to do from there

Instead my screen goes black and I wake up in a cage because, despite literally watching this happen, Astarion just lets mE BE KIDNAPPED

I thought I was being so clever instead I was so stupid Astarion chose to just cut his losses I GUESS

I obviously reloaded so that I wasn't a moron, but I like to imagine the only reason my Durge didn't drink the potion was because she glanced at Astarion during the conversation and he was just frantically shaking his head no

#my ramblings #another funny thing! #i managed to kill gut in one turn cause the second she called allies we were dead #Astarion managed to do crit damage and kill her right before it was his turn #i love him but also he jUST LEFT ME like wtf bro #my darling durge <3 #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #astarion acunin

[youngpettyqueen]

TELL ME ABOUT T’STREI (did I spell that right) 🥰

You did!! I would LOVE to talk about my babygirl I have had her as an OC for sooooooo so long and she is everything to me

T’Strei is half-Vulcan, half-Klingon, born to a Klingon mother (J’egrahl) and a Vulcan father (Solek)

There’s a whole lot to T’Strei’s backstory. Like, so much that I have an entire timeline written up. It’s quite long. So I won’t get into it a lot here, in the interest of being somewhat brief. But it’s essential to know that J’egrahl raised T’Strei alone, and also she’s the Worst

T’Strei’s story is, first and foremost, about healing and self-acceptance. She first arrives on DS9 as a patient, though she’s already requested to be transferred there. She was recently rescued from a rogue group of Cardassians, having been captured by them prior to the end of the occupation, and she refuses to talk about her ordeal. Instead, she recovers, and throws herself straight into work as a security officer

She’s a cold, severe kind of person. Incredibly blunt, strictly logical, pretty typical for a Vulcan. But she has a temper, and she tends towards recklessness and impulsivity on the job. She hits first and asks questions later. She clashes with Odo constantly. She barely speaks to anyone unless she has to. She just goes through the motions day by day

But, like I said, this is a story about healing and self-acceptance. T’Strei does realize she wants something else with her life. She does make friends, albeit very slowly. And eventually she decides to change tracks, and she goes into medicine and works a lot with Julian. It’s a very important thing she realizes, that her hands don’t have to be weapons of destruction. She has a lot of passion for medicine, and takes great pride in being a nurse

She’s a deeply damaged person. There’s a lot of hurt in her, a lot of rage, a lot of trauma. She slowly comes to terms with that, and with herself. She finds a home with people who love her, even with the things she’s done. She finds a place to stick with through hell and high water. The road isn’t perfect, it’s bumpy and bruising and sometimes it hurts, but she stays on it. After a lifetime of never fitting in, she wouldn’t dare trade this. Not for anything

She’s a living weapon who realizes she doesn’t have to be. The daughter who refuses to bear the sins of her mother. Someone who has never fit in and so carves a place for herself. And she is also my baby my cinnamon APPLE and I think about her 24/7

#queens originals #star trek oc #t’strei #ty ally <3 #I literally do have a timeline written up #which covers childhood - end of DS9 #there’s also a profile overview <3 #and then there’s what isn’t written yet but exists in my brain #in other words there’s. so much #nothing but the best for my darling girl

[livelovecaliforniadreams]

I'm happiest when I'm being myself, and I'm myself when I'm with you

#love this movie #whats your number #chris evans #Colin Shea #Ally Darling #anna faris #rom com #romantic comedy #movie #movies #filmedit #filme #cute things #so romantic #gif #gifs #gifset #love

[florallychaotic]

*rewatches the first five seconds of the collaboration tape* *rewatches the first five seconds of the collaboration tape* *rewatches the first five seconds of the collaboration tape* *rewatches the first five seconds of the collaboration tape* *rewatches the first five seconds of the collaboration tape*

#did we need darling to be shirtless randomly in the beginning of that tape? yeah fucking obviously #cant believe my first full lusting after an actor is a 58 yo man who voices a video game character #actually yes i can im a hipster that sounds exactly like mean #alan wake #alli rambles chaotically with flowers

[yarnnerdally]

Morning sex thoughts are the best 🥹 I love them!!

And I'm curious about your thoughts on Mattias and waking up with him when it's so cold outside 👀🤭

AAAAAAA OKAYokayokay hi Myara dear!

Yes yes yes. Darling Matias. He's definitely fantasized about it. So have I. It's a trait we have in common and give into indulging one another quite frequently.

It's a chilly morning and he even gets a little handsy in his sleep 🤭 He doesn't realize he's gripping my hips and I wake up already half on top of him like he's my personal body pillow. Waking him up with little kisses all over his face and neck. His groggy little "morning" before pulling me the rest of the way on top of him. He makes sure the blanket stays covering us as we generate our own body heat, ever thoughtful about our comfort and trying so hard not to give in to more aggressive pleasure and forgoing the blankets.

Keeping me wrapped up on top of him even after we finish, still joined, not ready to face the day and lose that warmth 🫠 until he decides its time for an early bath for both of us!

#please he has me so weak #ally answers asks #nsft #mdni #ikepri matias #matias darling

[elvisabutler]

My contribution to the thic Elvis cause:

The love handles though.

The choker, goth eyeliner combo is just beautiful with that soft face. He does not look 40 in this pic.

Maybe not the best pic and he might not be in the best shape but he's still beautiful and deserved better.

this is the stuff i enjoy coming home to on a weekend. like i always find the two piece to be a little weird just because i'm so used to jumpsuits and i'm always a little overwhelmed with the eyeliner choker combo because MY FORMER AESTHETIC THAT IS MY FORMER AESTHETIC IT'S. there's a certain type of man who wore that when i was in it. THEY WERE NOT ELVIS and it was a tragedy.

i just enjoy all of this right now and i just need a minute to control myself over this.

#big daddy #( sometimes shit comes at like a freight train. this is one of those things. ) #( like i could acknowledge he was always handsome/pretty/whatever but this level of feral just came in and ran me over. ) #like lord have mercy. #ally answers asks #elvis presley #thank you darling!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Crushed 2

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, manipulation, cheating, sleazy behaviour, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your next door neighbours hook up, bringing to surface deep-seated feelings.

Character: Colin Shea

Note: I couldn’t resist another one.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you like my dog loves belly rubs (that’s a lot). Take care. 💖

Ps. Do you like my divider? I’ll make you one for your stories.

You’re not sure if Colin’s awake when you drag in the hamper. You lug it around by the armchair and pull out the first garment, folding it neatly as you peek over at him. His long lashes are shut as he rests one hand on his chest, the remote underneath.

For a moment, you forget about Ally and their hallway affections. You imagine that this is normal. That this is every night. That you’re together and you’re folding your laundry because of that. Not because he doesn’t have the pocket change.

“What’s up?” His eyes flick open, “I got something on my face.”

He swipes his hand over his face as he sits up and yawns. You shake your head and focus on the next shirt; it’s one of his. You clear your throat. Nope, that’s just a stupid dream. 

Colin could have any woman, he’s had most, but not you. To him, you’re not even that. You’re his neighbour; boring, unexceptional, and definitely not attractive.

“So, um,” you fold up the tee as he watches, not offering to help as he sits back and flips to the next episode, “you said you were tuning your guitar. You working on anything original?”

“Not really. Band’s kind of on hold,” he drops his hand to his thigh, gripping through the loose fabric of his sweats. You try not to notice how the crotch has drawn snug around his… ahem. “Matt knocked up his girlfriend so I guess they’re getting hitched. I dunno.”

“Oh, well, congrats,” you pull out a silky pair of undies and pause. You examine the bright pink fabric, trimmed in lace with an almost nonexistent derriere.

“Those are cute,” he says. As you look at him, he winks and your face sears in embarrassment.

“They’re not mine,” you squeak out, “gosh.”

“Haha, thought they looked familiar,” he stands up and his joggers slouch a little lower, giving a generous glimpse of the vee of his pelvis, “Ally must’ve left em on the floor.”

You hand them over, recoiling as you turn back to the hamper to fish out the next piece. Now you’re not just doing his laundry, but hers. She must look so good in them too. You couldn’t imagine wearing anything like that.

“You ever think…” he nears and pulls out a grey blouse, “of punching up the wardrobe.” He holds it up, as if picturing it on you, “you’d look great in purple.”

“Oh, uh, my office is pretty strict,” you lie. No, you just don’t like people staring. It’s easier if they just don’t notice you at all.

“You’re not always at work,” he says.

“Mmm, sure,” you untangle another of his tee shirts. “Feels like I am.”

“Yeah, I don’t know how you do it.”

“If I had a choice…” you trail off with a shrug, “anyhow, I think that’s all of your stuff.” You lift the stack of tees and hold them out to him, “I bet Ally will be back soon.”

“Maybe,” he smirks, “but I like hanging out with you, buttercup. You’re so… sweet.”

“Thanks,” you can’t help but smile, “but I gotta get the rest of this folded and head to bed.”

“Makes sense,” he takes the tee shirts and tucks them under his arm, the pink panties balled up in his hand, “this place is cute.” He looks around, “you got a good eye. You know, I was thinking of sprucing my place up a bit.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Maybe you could help?”

“What about Ally? I’m sure she could.”

“Yeah, well, she’s not as helpful as you, buttercup,” he nears the door and turns back to you, “and you got better taste.”

“Hmp, I’ll think about it,” you relent. So much for trying to keep your distance.

“I’m tellin’ ya, buttercup, wifey material,” he grins.

You nod, barely squeaking out whatever gibberish rises from your stomach. He chuckles and leaves you at last. You deflate as the door shuts and you grip the sides of the hamper as you hang your head. What the fuck is wrong with you?

💗

You slog through the week. It’s like trying to move through quicksand. Every night you see them. Together. Happy. Meanwhile, you’re miserable and aching to the core.

Your days are spent at a thankless job and your nights are spent staring at the ceiling, trying not to hear them. Sometimes, it feels deliberate. Like they want you to hear.

Saturday, you go out and get your grocery shopping done. It’s an excuse to be away. When you return, you lug your bags up the stairs warily. You don’t want to witness another unwanted love scene.

You put your haul down as you approach your door and unlock it. You push it open and gather up the bags again. Ally’s handle clicks but you’re too slow to elude her. You enter and drop your weekly load onto the floor. She’s standing in the empty frame as you turn back to reclaim your keys from the slot.

“Hey,” she says brightly, “whatcha up to?”

“Hmm,” you wiggle the keys until they come free, “just groceries.”

“No, tonight silly,” she sticks her tongue out, “anything special?”

“Special? Like what?” You scoff as you take two bags and heave them up onto the counter.

“I don’t know. Like hanging with your good friend, Ally, aka me,” she points her thumb at herself as you face her again. You take the other two bags and shove them next to the others.

“Really?” You take out the carton of milk and put it in the fridge, “you don’t have to… invite me. I’m sure Katie–”

“Oh, she’s busy. Planning a wedding.”

“Hm, well, Eileen–” 

“Yeah, she has a date.”

“Sheila–”

“On a couples trip with Jamie. Please,” she nears the counter as you sort through the dry goods, “I have a bottle of vodka with our names on it.”

“Ally, I… you know I don’t really drink,” you spin and cross to the cupboards, placing the boxed cereal and oats away, “what about…” you swallow, your mouth dry, tongue sticky as you force out the name, “Colin?”

“Ugh, he has a dumb show,” she rolls her eyes as you peek back at her.

“Oh? And you can’t go?”

“To a bar mitzvah? No, I didn’t get an invitation.”

“Uh, yeah, I guess I didn’t think of that,” you eke out an awkward chuckle, “well, we could do a movie night. Get some pizza?”

“Have some cocktails!” She squeals excitedly as she grabs the bottle of cranberry juice out of a bag, “this would be perfect!”

“Well, um, that’s–”

“I’ll put a fresh tray of ice in, just to be sure we have enough,” she chimes as she skips to the door with the misappropriated juice, “this is going to be so much fun. Just the two of us! It’s been too long.”

“Yeah, er, should be good…” your voice trails off as she’s already gone.

The last time you went to her place, her friends were there. They weren’t your biggest fans. They were all so loud and you were too quiet. Besides, all they wanted to do was talk about men and you had little to add on that topic.

Well, it has to be better than eating rocky road alone and watching the same show you watch every night. A crack in the monotony isn’t so bad. In the meantime, you can shop around for a new place. There’s gotta be something, anything, better than this. Better than watching others live a life you’ll never have.

💗

“No more,” you try to wave away the glass as Ally nears, “I think I’ve had too much.”

“Come on, let loose!”

You don’t want to be a bad guest and you definitely don’t want to argue. You were taught better than that. Besides, as a middle child, you learned that it’s easier to acquiesce than to resist. Ally is definitely a younger sister, demanding and just as often getting her way.

You take the bright red drink. Vodka and cranberry make for a tart but palatable combo. She takes her own glass and flops down, giggling as she takes a gulp. You taste your own and make a face. It tastes stronger than the last. Don’t complain, that’s rude. Why is it your mother’s voice always in your head?

“So, girl talk,” she slurs. Her blended words betray the haze already blurring in the edges of your vision, “cute guys? Who are we into?”

“Hm,” you nearly choke but hide it by forcing down the acidic mixture of juice and alcohol with a painful swallow, “guys?” You cough as you wipe your mouth, “no, I don’t… no one.”

“No one? Come on! There’s gotta be someone.”

“Really, I’m not, uh, looking.”

“Oh, so Colin’s right,” she chimes.

“About what?” Your chest knots and your nerves scatter.

“There’s someone at work! There’s gotta be. Huh?”

“N-no, I swear,” you protest, “there’s no one. I just… I’m still getting over the last one.”

The lie hangs in the air between you. Does she believe you? Does she really care that much? How much of a lie is it truly? You are trying to get over Colin. Her boyfriend.

“Ah, I know what that’s like,” she sits back and giggles, “ugh, the men I’ve dated and to think I was so hung up on those losers,” she rolls her eyes and drinks again. You mimic her to hide your discomfort, “Colin is so… perfect. He just gets me, you know? Like, he doesn’t expect me to be anyone but me.”

You nod and look at your glass, almost just ice now. You shouldn’t be drinking so fast. Or maybe you should be drinking more.

“That’s awesome,” you babble dumbly, “he’s a nice guy.”

“Isn’t he?” She grins and her cheeks turn a pretty shade of pink, “and my mother hates him. So win-win.”

You chew your lip and hum, a nondescript noise of approval? Indifference? She’s too drunk to hear anything but her own boasts.

“And fuck, he’s… got a lot to offer,” she chitters naughtily, “I mean… a lot.”

She makes a lewd gesture and you try not to gag. There’s fire in your face, burning hotly as you try not to think about that. About him.

You force a laugh, “great,” you stand, wobbling just a little, “mind if I grab another slice?”

“Mmm, whatever,” she says dreamily, “Colin will just finish what we don’t.”

You hide your face quickly as you waddle into the kitchen drunkenly. Colin, Colin, Colin. It hurts to see how happy she is about it more than anything. Or you’re just drunk and jealous. Definitely drunk.

You flip up the lid of the box and take out a greasy slice. You look down at your shirt, the way it clings to your stomach. Of course he wouldn’t be interested in a girl like you. You drop the slice back inside and wipe your fingers on your jeans. Fuck it, you eye the vodka bottle, you just want to forget.

💗

A drunken slumber flows over you like a tide. You slump down as the television continues to blares and Ally’s own ignorant snores fill the din. One leg up on the couch, the other bent over the edge, you sprawl carelessly across the cushions.

The fuzzy darkness comforts you. No thoughts, no doubts, no pain. You’re drunk as hell and you love it.

Ally’s warmth seeps into you as her legs are bent against yours. You’ve never felt like this. Well, you’ve never been this drunk. Tipsy at best when your mother gave you a glass of wine at the family gettogether. But this is a soft sort of oblivion, the room is there but you aren’t.

The heavy black curtain shrouds your anxiety, casting you into nothingness. There are noises around you, detached and distant. A click, some shuffling, footsteps. 

Soft whispers and a trilling giggle. An echo of the near past. A peek of reality, of the hallway affections and helpless envy. You groan and shift but don’t wake. You want to stay in the depths just a little longer. You like being numb.

“Shhh,” the words distort in your ears, your eyelids twitching but not opening.

“She won’t hear,” Colin’s scratchy response sends a shiver through you, “come on.”

You don’t move. You focus on your breath. Are you dreaming? You have to be. This is a nightmare. You’re still drunk. You’re still passed out. Right?

The couch lurches and clumsy steps follow. Another laugh and some hissing to be quiet. Your head lolls as you try to sink back down. To not think. The sour taste of vodka and cranberry clings to your tongue, vile and viscous.

You hear them talking, moving, clumsy and uncaring. Something falls, wood scrapes, a squeal pierces the gloss of drunkenness completely. Your eyes snap open and you stare at the ceiling, heart pounding as you listen, paralysed.

“Colin,” Ally titter’s, “please–”

“I’ve been thinking of this all night,” he purrs back.

You throw your arm over your face and hide. They can’t see you, you can’t see them, but you can hear everything. They haven’t got as far as the bedroom, you can sense them not that far behind the couch.

She gives a breathy laugh and he growls. There’s a scuffle, muffled but hasty. You don’t want to hear it. You don’t want to be here. But you don’t want them to know you’re awake.

You cover your mouth as your eyes prick hotly and you listen. Don’t do that. Don’t. You can’t hear them at all. You can’t hear the way she gasps or how he grunts. The steady succession of mewls and heavy puffs, the rhythm of flesh and the soft impact against the plaster.

You quiver and spread your hands over your face. How fucking pathetic can you be? You’re sitting here while they do that? They don’t give a fuck that you’re right there. You’re right there and you’re going to puke.

You sit up dizzily and brace the back cushion. Your instincts outrun your judgment and you peek over at the writhing forms in the edge of your vision. You cup your hand across your lips and gag. 

You push yourself off the couch as the sight of Colin rutting into Ally stains your mind. The way he had his arms hooked beneath her legs, how her feet bounced with their tempo, the image of his bare ass above his slack pants.

You hit your knees and crawl across the floor, trying not to draw attention as you drag yourself towards the door. You get to the entryway and reach for the handle, clumsily twisting it and climbing onto your unsteady legs. You sway slightly before you swing through and slam the door in your frantic departure.

You keel over before you can reach your door and hurl onto the worn wooden floorboards. You retch until you’re empty and weak. You gulp and stumble over the puddle with only your bed in mind. You just want this night to go away.

#colin shea #dark colin shea #dark!colin shea #colin shea x ally darling #colin shea x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #crushed #series #what's your number?