#and i would act out scenarios where she and michael were like dating

[bella-goths-wife]

read ur slashers after a breakup n i have to ask !! how wuld different slashers try to get bavk wth their s/o ! it doesnt have to be a part two it culd be a completely separate scenario but breaking up wth them had me in literal tears !!

Aww thank you :))

The slashers trying to get you back

Michael Myers

Michael searched for you for two years but eventually gave up and went back to his home

Coincidentally the place he left to look for you was the place where you were

You were staying with a friend just on the outer part of the town

You had tried dating but it never really worked out, you didn’t get the same sarcastic jokes as you did with Michael, they never held you the way that made you melt

So to drown out your loneliness you went out to the local bar, got blackout drunk, and started crying in the alley way

Michael found you and scooped you up his arms to take you back to the Myers residence

When you woke up you found your old room exactly how you left it, minus your personal items

It was also the only room that was clean

You tried to leave but Michael physically blocked you in his attempt of begging you to stay

So you promised to spend the day with him

You spent the day cleaning, teasing each other, having dinner together, watching horror films together and at the end of the night Michael held you as you both slow danced

You set some ground rules down that Michael would have to follow if he wanted to get back together

He wasn’t allowed to leave to kill for longer than a month, to not make you have to do all the chores and for him to communicate his feelings with you more often

Surprisingly Michael agreed to all the rules and even worked on himself to be better for you

You both became much more happy in your relationship and you were in the healthiest place you’ve ever been, well for a killer and his partner

Bo Sinclair

After you left, Bo was forced to look at Himself and found himself acting exactly like his parents

This scared him to death and with convincing from Lester, he agreed to go for a therapy session

It took a few sessions for him to open up but when he did he spilled everything, minus the murder and wax figures

After around a year of therapy his therapist recommended him getting some closure from your past relationship, so he had Lester convince you to stay in Ambrose for the weekend

When you came back Bo instantly felt past feelings of adoration and affection swell in his chest but he pushed it aside

You both sat together and talked, and Bo noticed how much healthier you looked

Your dark eye bags and been replaced with creases from your smile, your weight had returned to its normal size and you weren’t as pale as before, in fact you were glowing

The weekend was spent talking, laughing, Bo complimenting you whenever he could and you both reminiscing about the good times

You had decided to extend your stay and one thing led to another and your waking up in Bo’s bed with his arms wrapped around your waist

Both you and Bo go to a therapy session to ask his therapist if you both getting back together would be a good thing and when she gives the green light, your both officially together again

You don’t move in together immediately again and you decided to go long distance for a year while you finished your education

You moved in with him and seven years after that your married and your expecting a child

You grow old together and your always content with your lives

You passed away at 72 of heart troubles, Bo was devastated but he kept it together for the kids

He passed away a year afterwards in his sleep with a picture of you in his hand

Some people even say that at certain parts of the night they can see your ghosts slow dancing in your wedding outfits

Vincent Sinclair

Bo had noticed how destroyed Vincent was after you left and he hated to admit it but he hated it and a part of him missed you

So through mutual friends, Bo finds out where you live now and drives there before picking you up, throwing you over his shoulder and basically kidnapping you and taking you back to Ambrose

When you and Vincent are locked in a room together by Bo, your forced to talk to each other

He writes on a piece of paper that he was sorry for how he acted and how much he missed you, while you expressed that a sorry won’t fix everything

After the three hour mark you decided to open up about how much his jealousy hurt you, not only did he feel like he owned you, but he basically admitted that he didn’t trust you

He tells you that he does trust you and he admits that his jealousy comes from his deep rooted insecurities about his face and how jealous he always was that Bo got the good looking face while he was scarred for life

You held him as he began crying and reassured him that he was the most beautiful man you’d ever met

You spent the rest of the time talking like you used too and when it had officially been 12 hours Bo opened the doors and offered you a lift home

You kissed Vincent’s cheek and gave him your new number and suggested that he could work on himself and his jealousy and when he was ready, you would go on a date together

He works on himself and slowly begins to love himself for who he is

You both text and call for a few months and after a full two years of working on himself, Vincent finally felt ready to begin dating again

You both fell in love with each other all over again and Bo reminds you daily that it was all because of him

Thomas Hewitt

After you left, Thomas couldn’t stand being near his family

So he moved himself into one of the empty houses in the abandoned town

He felt miserable without you and would constantly fantasise about you being in his arms

He would cry while looking at a Polaroid of you playing dress up in a wedding dress from the abandoned wedding boutique

He always thought about marrying you and would treasure the image of his and your children

You were surprising thriving without Thomas’s family constantly criticising you, you did miss Thomas but you couldn’t go back to that family

One day you were driving through Texas on your way to your friends house which was a few miles away from the town, you assumed you would be fine considering the Hewitt residence was miles away from the town

You were wrong in fact because as you were taking a quick stop to go to the bathroom you saw Thomas looking at you through a window

When he comes out he writes and explains that he lives there now

You stopped for longer than expected and chatted to Thomas about how your life was going

He invited you into his home and you helped him clean up and he cooked you dinner

He explained his regret to you for his actions and how he felt guilty about not standing up for you

You told him that an apology wasn’t enough to heal what his family did to you

You both tell each other that you miss one another and you end up kissing

You had to leave to go to your friends but you offered to come visit on your way back

You both came up with a decision and decided to get back together on the condition that you wouldn’t have to interact with the Hewitt family, which you didn’t have to now that Thomas had moved out

You decided to move in together and you had a a “wedding” which was just the two of you in wedding outfits and saying vows to each other

You lived and had a relatively good life together and you both felt nothing but love and adoration for one another

Asa Emory

Without you, asa turned into a walking rage bomb

Even in his regular life and job as a professor, he became irrationally angry and blew up at his students

This got him a suspension for a month and Asa only saw one way to get rid of his rage, killing you

He planned to kidnap you, explain why he was going to kill you and kill you gently as possible so he could get rid of these negative feelings

But when he kidnapped you and saw your panicked, crying face he just couldn’t do it

He decided me to manipulate you back into loving him

He puts you in terrifying situations and comes to save you, fakes crying to you about how much he’s changed and how he missed you and he makes you develop Stockholm syndrome all over again

And while he does fake his interest in changing, he does actually change

He treats you less as a pet and more as a partner and even moves you into his home

He then proposes to you in an attempt to trap you in his spiderweb

When you say yes your relationship becomes very public and you have a large wedding

Now to the outside world you both seem like the perfect, American couple

This helps Asa get back into his bosses good graces and secures you in his life forever

Now all you need to do is have a son so he can pass down his traditions

Tiffany valentine

After you left, Tiffany was trapped in an unhappy, doll marriage with Chucky, a man who verbally degraded her into nothing

She spent her entire marriage fantasying about you and would pray to see you again

So when her soul is transferred into Jennifer tillys body and Chucky’s dead, she sees this as her second shot with you

She ‘bumps into you’ at the grocery store and you have a fan freak out because of how much you loved Jennifer Tilly

Tiffany doesn’t tell you who she really is into your dating again and when she does your enraged

You spend a few months apart but you eventually come around when Tiffany calls your crying about how much she missed you and that she could finally be with you now that Chucky was dead

You date again for a year before getting married to each other which breaks the papers as people never thought Jennifer tilly would be married

Let’s just hope a ginger haired prick doesn’t find out about your marriage or else Tiffany will become a widow

#bo sinclair x reader #michael myers x reader #asa emory x reader #bo sinclair #michael myers #thomas hewitt x reader #vincent sinclair x reader #asa emory #thomas hewitt #vincent sinclair #slashers x reader #angst #slashers break up #slashers x reader angst #slashers x reader make up #break up #make up

[veryferaldistributions]

My Top Five Least-Favorite “My Two Dads” Episodes

(As always, these are just my opinions. You may think these are great. Ain’t no shame in that!)

5. Love and Learn

I should love this episode. Nicole learns a lesson, the dads learn a lesson, everyone hugs at the end, and I cry like I’m PMSing. My issue with this episode, though, is that Nicole doesn’t act like herself. Every decision she makes in this episode feels like something Shelby or Nina would do, or some other teenage girl, but not Nicole. She’s always been consistently smart and self-aware, possibly more so than other girls her age, but in this episode she acts like a love-sick puppy. She’s writing bad poetry, she’s sulking in her room, and generally isn’t in character. She’s dated boys that were “bad for her” in other episodes, but always in an obvious and aware “just doing this to get back at her dads” reason. (Heck, the VERY NEXT EPISODE, “You Can Count on Me” shows just how aware Nicole is, when Shelby wants to have sex with a boy she barely knows, and Nicole manages to talk her out of it.)

I also feel like this episode didn’t impress upon Nicole, or the audience, the seriousness of her being fifteen and dating an nineteen year old. And this show was obviously before the present era where this is FAR more taboo, but I feel like the boy should have made the point that what they were doing, even just by kissing, was HIGHLY illegal. I still like elements of this episode, especially the message that Nicole’s dads will always love her, no matter how many mistakes she makes, so it’s not a total loss and that’s why it’s #5. But still not one of my favorites.

4. Who’s on First?

Again, for the most part, this episode is actually alright. It’s more the second half I don’t like than the first. Nicole goes on a date and has her first kiss, something that makes her dads very uncomfortable. After they send Cory to her room to spy on her, they catch them in a very awkward “not what it looks like” scenario. One in which the dads definitely overreact, but I can’t exactly blame them entirely. It did look bad.

After Nicole explains herself, with the Judge as a mediator, the dads realize they should probably learn more about the teenage girl experience. So, they read a book? They talk to moms of Nicole’s friends? NOPE! They decide to go to a “Female Sexual Awakening” seminar (how they thought this would be about puberty is beyond me). And, of course, they act like absolute pigs. With Michael saying a shockingly inappropriate line that I refuse to repeat and I’m surprised they got away with. The lesson of this episode seemed to be more about “men will act like men, women will act like women, and no one should try to do anything different.” The talk they have with Nicole at the end was fairly decent, where they make a vague attempt to say “you can come to us about anything,” but they’ve had better family moments.

3. Getting Smart

I like the overall ATTEMPTED lesson behind this episode, but I don’t truly feel like Michael learned anything, which was what the episode was trying to do.

Nicole begins to think that she shouldn’t act as smart as she is because “boys don’t like smart girls.” Shelby is the one who impresses this on her, but Nicole actually is more influenced by the way her dads talk about their boss, Karen (more on her later in the list). Nicole ends up asking her dads to let her drop back into normal literature instead of being in the advanced class, which they allow, before realizing why she’s done it. Michael’s attitude towards his boss left a bad taste in my mouth, and I really felt like he didn’t change hardly at all, and the room for self-reflection on his part was not taken advantage of.

The episode felt like it ended on a more “agree to disagree” message with Michael and Nicole, which I didn’t really like. Other episodes have done this better, in my opinion, such as “Dirty Dating,” showing that her dads are still the parents and still in charge, but should also always consider Nicole’s feelings and opinions.

2. See You in September?

For those that don’t know, this is the series finale, and most would agree that it was not satisfying in the slightest. Though I can’t find a lot of background information on this, I have a feeling that the creators were told halfway through Season 3 that they wouldn’t be picked up for another season. Characters that got more of a relationship arc were suddenly rushed together for the sake of a happy “heterosexual” ending.

Sarah just happens to be having her wedding in New York, and Joey goes to stop her from getting married. Which actually works! He then makes an uncharacteristically abrupt decision to leave Michael and Nicole and move to San Francisco to be with Sarah and Gracie. And no matter which way you lean on the “are they?/aren’t they?” thing with Michael and Joey, most can see Joey was very against leaving Nicole in “Bye Bye, Baby” (one of Joey’s best episodes). And though Michael has his own love interest at this point (fuck if I can even remember her name), it was all very weirdly abrupt. I’ve only seen the finale once, and once was enough for me.

1. Together We Stand

Remember when I said in another post that this show can be sexist as hell? Well, this is the crowning jewel of these episodes. Michael and Joey have recently been rehired by Mr. Kelcher to run a financial magazine. At first, we think Michael is going to be the boss of their department, but it turns out both men have a new boss named Karen. One that they, but especially Michael, treat like absolute garbage.

I don’t necessarily have a problem with showing workplace sexism in the media; it’s a very real issue, and when handled correctly, can be entertaining and informative. (“Anchorman” does this really well, in my opinion.) But in this episode, our favorite boys are shown to be absolute pigs. And this is never shown to be the “wrong” or “bad” thing to be. They’re seen as right, and they never get any comeuppance. I found no redeemable qualities in this episode and I am quite comfortable throwing the whole thing away. It was the cream of the crap!

Dishonorable Mentions:

* The God of Love: Overall a VERY uncomfortable episode. The whole segment with Nicole talking to Joey’s nude date (AND THE DADS LETTING HER) made me want to barf.

* Crushed: (see my feelings on “Love and Learn.” But with less “meh” enjoyment.)

* The Wedge & Fallen Idol: Solidly fine episodes, I just truly couldn’t care less about Joey’s rockstar friend.

* Who’s Night is it Anyway? & Stupid Macho Guy Time: Jesus, what is with the women in this show? These were bad episodes that make Michael and Joey look like horrible idiots.

#my two dads #top five list #couldn’t think of ten #michael taylor #joey harris #nicole bradford

[turnleftaticela]

you know. i wonder if i’d’ve figured this out earlier if i’d seen media as a kid with nonbinary people in it. i wonder if i’d’ve been like “yeah that. that’s me”

#trying to think who i identified with as a kid #holy fuck wait maybe that’s why i hyperfixated on michael jackson at age 9 #because of the bad/dangerous-era androgyny #even thriller-era a little bit #and i would okay do you want to hear something really insane. #i invented a girl character called ‘missy’ based on the ‘mystery girl’ in his song ‘in the closet’ #and i would act out scenarios where she and michael were like dating #by imagining michael’s spirit was inside one of my stuffed animals and like talking to it djdgwywwiwj #BUT. #most of the time i would pretend to do a magical spirit swap with the stuffed animal #so that i could play the part of michael #and be the one who was dating missy #jesus fucking christ lmfao #i haven’t thought about this in so long #also have never told anyone about it LMAO congrats if you’re reading this #THE SONG WAS LITERALLY CALLED IN THE CLOSET goodbye

[laketaj24]

Serotonin II

Author’s Note: Here it is! I am taking requests, and the taglist is open, drop your name under this fic or on this list if you are interested! This does have a prior part but can be read as a standalone.

Pairing: Colson Baker x Reader

Warning: Smut, breeding kink

Inspo Song: Bad Things

Part I

My MASTERLIST

Colson: Busy?

Y/N: Why would I be busy?

Colson: For sure ain’t been answering my texts 🥱

Y/N: You need something, Col?

Colson: You know you only call me Col when you’re half asleep or whimpering my name when you about to cum. Let me come over.

Tongue-tied, his messages left you baffled. They were a smooth variation of sexting mixed with pleading. Every message included a very Colson apology but a rebuttal that followed and reminded you why you couldn’t fall back in the same routine with him. It was easy to picture yourself back with him, nestled against his lean frame - listening to his voice as it rumbled against his chest as he rambled on. You saw it clear as day, but the truth of the matter was he didn’t do what you required to have you back in his life. Fucking you in the bathroom of some club like a whore, giving your body a fix, but your heart and mind still felt that hesitation when it came to Mr. Baker.

“Are you listening?” Dana asked, holding up the soy powder milk for your nephew.

“I heard you clear as day.”

“You sure you didn’t just daydream the entire I talked about not feeding Jaylen after seven?” Dana placed the soy milk on the table and glanced down at her newborn. “If you’re not up to it, I can stay. I hate going out of town so soon after having him.” She tapped her soon on the back a few times and exhaled.

“We will be fine.”

“You say this, but I don’t believe you.”

“Why?”

“You’re head has been shot ever since you broke up with the delinquent.” She rolled her eyes. “And what pisses me off is Tyla loves him!” She whispered and turned her attention to the seven-year-old parked in front of the tv. “I mean worships him.”

“I know. Colson is good with kids.”

“Because he’s childish.” She added. “He’s basically a six variant of one.”

“You can’t say one thing nice?”

“His music isn’t shitty,” Dana added. “I will be back at eight for the both of them, and I swear not to do this again, just my boss needs me, and their dad is busy.” She lied. “So- I love you, sis. Call Eric!” Dana kissed your cheek and sprinted out the door without another word.

Eric, you hadn’t seen him since you left the club a week ago, and you barely responded to his texts. The ride home was awkward; the entire time, he talked about how much he enjoyed the night. And the only thing you could think about was getting bent over in the bathroom by your ex. Good date.

Auntie duty had started. Diapers, Tiktok, YouTube, and some weird pig cartoon lay ahead of you for the next nine hours. Jaylen slept peacefully in his playpen, unbothered by his mother's lack while Tyla consumed her tv.

Colson: I got food open the door.

Y/N: What door?

Colson: Your apartment door. It’s Chipotle.

Fuck, you were hungry.

Y/N: Leave the food on the porch.

Colson: I’m not a god damn door dash.

The abrupt knocking startled Jaylen, soo you took him in your arms and walked to the door, “Stay in the living room Tyla.”

“K,” She answered, not even looking up from her phone.

You opened the door revealing Colson in his pink hoodie and gray joggers. He held bags of food in his hand and garnished a big smile on his face, “You look good with a baby.”

“Why are you here?”

“You wouldn’t come to see me or invite me over, so invited myself over. Can I come in?”

“No.” Jaylen stirred in your arms, his plump little legs kicked, and you sighed. “I am busy today. That’s why I didn’t invite you over. I have to keep my nieces and nephews, and every time you are over here, you either curse too much or we end up fucking.”

“Watch your mouth.” He teased.

“How were you texting with all that in your hands?” You stared at him.

“You know I got talented hands.”

“Colson!”

Why? You grimaced inwardly before looking at your overly excited niece, she loved Colson, and you hated to admit, he might be an asshole sometimes, but he loved kids. He was a wonder with them. You slapped your face, disappointed there was not a way to hide the massive man at your door. “He can’t stay.” You answered before the question left your lips.

“Why? Please!” Tyla pouted her pink lips and threw her arms up in defeat. “We never see him anymore.”

“That’s your aunt’s fault,” Colson added fuel to the fire. “I won’t stay long.” He pushed through, entering your apartment to greet Tyla with a hug at her level and a sly wink to you. Kids were the way to your heart – and his, but he would not win you over with this bullshit today. Not at all. “You hungry, Tyla?”

“Yeah, ten minutes, and you’re out.”

“Damn.”

“Tiktok?’ she held up her phone and the ring light from her purple book bag. “Please.”

“Word, what are we learning?” He raised his brows to you and proceeded to make himself comfortable on the couch; she was ecstatic, immediately standing to do a dance and drag you over to learn it too. Tiktok had become the bane of your existence, but for Tyla and her half a million followers, she was golden.

One hour later and you were tired, you’d perfected the dance, and Colson had convinced her to let him skip the dancing and just be—it was all he had to do though, she’d get one million views just because of who he was, and now everyone would know you were with him. Your heart dropped a little thinking about the exposure while she edited the video next to both of you.

“Why is Uncle Colson never around?” Tyla never looked up from her phone; she just continued her mission of posting that sixty-second video and ruining your life.

“He’s not your uncle.” You corrected.

“That’s your aunt’s fault too.” He added.

“Don’t start with me.” The harsh whisper came out as a warning, waking baby Jaylen from his nap and making Colson chuckle in amusement.

“I like him; I want him in the family.”

“I want a million dollars.”

“I can give you that.” He said.

“And a loyal boyfriend who doesn’t text insta-sluts in his spare time.”

“Don’t use sluts in front of her damn; your mouth is outrageous Y/N.”

The narrowing of your eyes made him burst into laughter again. He was damn good at annoying you like he had it mastered.

The day passed quickly with him making eyes at you, caring for Jaylen while she styled Colson’s hair in four ponytails atop his head, garnished with bows, and she even attempted to give him edges. He didn’t care; as long as she was happy, he was good.

“You look a mess.”

“It’s cool.” Colson snapped a picture. “Been waiting forever to see if ponytail was for me or not; it’s a no.” He sat back on the couch while Tyla disappeared to your room for god knows what else. “You look good with babies, you know?”

“You’ve said that.”

“I meant it; you’re good with them too.” He sighed. “I thought about kids with us, like every damn day.”

“Funny.” You shrugged, and she appeared with your bright pink polish. “What’re you doing, Tyla?”

“Painting his nails.” She plopped down in front of him, and without hesitation, he held his hand out for her. “We did blue last time.”

“Yep.” He exhaled. “Don’t you want this?”

He didn’t have to elaborate; you knew what he was talking about, but a family was the last thing from your mind, no matter how perfect the scenario looked right now. “Do you?”

Colson smacked his lips. “We can talk later.”

“You leaving when they do.” You reiterated.

The door opened thirty minutes later without a knock or doorbell; Dana never announced herself. “I see he found his way back in.” Her mouth dropped as soon as her eyes met him. “Tyla just had her way today, didn’t she.” She laughed. “Oh god, she gave this man braids.”

“Your daughter is talented.” He laughed. “Might be a new look.”

“Ridiculous.” She held her laughter. “Ty, get up and come on, love; we have a long drive.” She took Jaylen from your chest and gave you a look. “How long is he staying?”

“Not long, sis, drive safe.”

“I will. Colson, you leave in ten minutes, or I’m sending our brother over.” She pointed to him.

“I’m not scared of Michael; send him.” Why did his arrogance only make you want him more? He looked to Dana, who, like him, was not bothered.

“I hate him.” She mumbled as she left. “I just fucking hate him.”

“It’s mutual!” Colson laughed as the door shut. “You’re gonna stay over there the whole time?”

“Aint no reason for me to be over there for real.” You thought of three reasons to stay where you were, the drop in his voice, the tension in this room that could be cut with a knife, and when he was alone with you, your willpower was nonexistent. “You have five minutes.”

“We aren’t going to talk about this, are we? You like being evasive and shit? That you’re new persona?”

“I have no new persona. This is me not playing into all the bullshit you bring when you’re with me. This is a wall.”

“I’m about to knock that wall over.” He smirked.

“Stay on your couch.” You warned.

Colson held his hands up, acting defenseless, “I wasn’t moving from this spot.”

“My sister hates you, you know that? She literally said that I would be better off leaving Cali before staying here with your toxic ass.” You found yourself pointing at him and wanting to knock that smile from his face. Colson liked to see you get feisty with him; he called that foreplay, and here you were dancing to the beat of his drum, pissed.

“How am I toxic? I stopped all that shit for you, every ounce of it.”

“Stop lying.”

Colson grinned at you, unwavering in his position and impressed that you were persistent in yours; your usual fights lasted about one day. You’d take him back, and everything went back to how it was before, but that changed nothing; you wanted him to change. “I am not lying to you. Come here.”

You walked over to him, taking his hand and allowing him to pull you down in his lap. Facing him, you admired all the little cuts he’d earned over the years in senseless fights or accidents. Your fingers traced over them before you cupped his face. What the fuck were you doing? Why were the two of you akin to magnets? Drawing one another in half of the time and then at the flip of a side hating one another? You placed your lips on him, parting his lips with your tongue and then flicking playfully over his teeth before he caught your bottom lip with his teeth and tugged. The slight pressure made you moan against him. He cradled your neck with one hand, not allowing you to escape him. Colson deepened the kiss, adding pressure and taking what little breath you had away. “I fucking miss you, Y/N.” He rasped.

"Don't talk.”You murmured back.

Colson didn’t listen; he never listened.  “You were good with them today.”

You growled, grinding your hips on him. “Shut up, Colson.”

“I want to talk to you, I want you back Y/N, shit. Like I am trying, I canceled recording sessions, appearances, and other shit all this month so we can figure this out. I don’t want to-,”

You stopped him from talking, gripping his cock through the sweats with one hand and kissing him to shut up.

“Stop.” In one fluid motion, your hands were by your side, and your eyes were on his, “We’re talking; I was not fucking other women. But I was entertaining them, and it’s no excuse. I know you’re hurt; I’m sorry. Like real talk, no joke – I apologize.”

“How do I know it won’t happen again?’

“I'll delete all this shit for you,” He admitted. “Fuck a platform.”

“You’re so dramatic.”

“I’m dead ass right now. Fuck it all. I just want you.”

“If it happens again, I am never taking you back, ever.”

“It won’t.” He whispered, loosening the grip on your hands.

You took advantage of the notion, moving your hand down to his cock, rubbing the hilt through his sweats again.

“Nah,” He gripped your hair, pulling you back, so your eyes met him. “It’s my turn now.” He pushed aside your shorts in seconds, and his fingers plunged into your pussy, curling for a moment and then spinning out of you. He placed his fingers on your lips, “Open up.” You didn’t hesitate to take his fingers, licking your own juices from them, and he tapped your face sending a slight pleasurable sting. “How you taste?”

“Ready.” You pulled him from the sweats feeling him jump at your cool hands, and stood up, wriggling out of the shorts before hovering back over him again.

Colson playfully tosses you on your couch, draping one leg to the ground. “Let me taste.” He whispered as he descended between your legs. Colson’s fingers brushed your swollen clit, before his lips latched on, sucking. You bowed from the couch, the moans and scratched to his shoulders done nothing but encourage. He lapped up your juices before diving his tongue into you and swirling around. You gasped, surprised and pleased as he worked.

“Col-“ You gripped his shoulders, lifting yourself from laying down, and he took full advantage, pulling you onto his face and fucking you with his tongue. Your body coiled, the jolts of pleasure popped around your body, and then you came. The white-hot energy surged through your body, and you panted, shaking, almost collapsing back on the couch. He caught you peppering the wet kisses from your pussy to your mouth.

“You good?”

“Better than.” You whispered, breathing heavily. “ Shit.”

“We’re not done.” Of course, you weren’t; his cock throbbed against his leg, waiting to ruin your life, and here you were still out of breath. Colson gently pulled you from the couch, sitting you in his lap, and he started once again with the kisses. You could taste yourself on his lips, and for some reason, that just made you wetter for him. He took advantage of stroking himself before he lowered you down on him. You took every inch, mouth slightly open and hair swinging the entire time. You pressed your breast against his chest, savoring the warm feeling of his cock inside of you, and then you started moving on him. Your muscles clenched around, gripping him with each stroke. Your clit rubbed against his pelvic bone; you took that added pleasure in stride biting your lip as it intensified every time your skin met.

Colson’s eyes were hooked on you, his fingers dug in your ass, guiding you up and down on his cock, urging you to keep going, and there was no way in hell you were going to stop. You could feel it building once again, this time bigger. “Hold it.” He whispered, knowing you were about once more. “Not yet.”

“Ah,” Impatience grew over you; you slowed your ride, winding your hips slowly, your eyes closed as you took over, fucking up into you, guiding your body to take more. “I can’t.” You whined as you fought to hold the orgasm back.

“Yeah, you can.” He slammed into you harder, knocking the breath from you, your toes curled, and you screamed as you shook against him. “I wanna feel that pussy shake around me when I cum; hold it.” He slapped your clit with three fingers, and your breath hitched. “Hold it.” His hand travels up your shirt to your bare stomach, and he kisses you once more. “Y/N.”  His hips rocked slowly, but then he started to fuck you quicker, the tip of his dick hitting your g-spot each time. You were a screaming mess, biting down on his shoulder. That done the trick he spasms against you growling. His warm cum triggered you. You came, sinking down and taking all of it. “Shit, you cheated.”

“You would’ve lasted forever.” You smiled lazily.

“Is that a complaint or a compliment?”

“Both.”

You wince, sliding off him, “right.” He rolled his eyes. “Now we gotta eat reheated Chipotle.” he stood up, fixing his pants. “Can I stay?”

“I guess.” You pulled the blanket over you, snuggling into your favorite place on the couch. He heads into the kitchen, and you reach for your phone, wondering what threat your sister had for you.

Meg: Are you still coming tonight?

This was not your phone; of course, it wasn’t. You unlocked the phone, clicking her name to look at the messages. But there is only red as Colson makes his way back into the living room. You throw the phone across the room, hitting the wall, and he stares at you. “What the fuck?”

“Take you and that Chipotle and get out.”

“Damn, what the Chipotle do?”

  A/N: One more part coming. I’ll drop it next week, I think! Thank yall for reading! Let me know what you think!!

Taglist: @taytayize123​ @ctrlszn @supernaturalvikingwhore @jae-writes-fanfiction @bigsisbria @placeoffreedom @kyla-queen @missdforever @gottatoxicattitude @bang-kim-bap @msreshel @blowmymbackout @titty-teetee @strawberry-skyes @mauvecherie @savageiz @bang-kim-bap @luci-her @littlelovebug98 @babyboy-cody @hellshedevil @daddyavesxx @crystalbaby12 @jeonsblackgf

commenters from serotnin who might be interested: @mgkmerchstyles @mayaslifeinabox

#laketa j writes #colson baker x black reader #colson baker fics #colson baker x reader #colson baker #mgk #machine gun kelly x black reader #machine gun Kelly

[talkfastromance4]

Indigo--Calum Hood [one]

A/N: I can’t believe it’s finally arrived! Thank you all for being so patient while it took me literally two months to write this fic. It’s my first ever slow burn and the longest fic to date (word wise). This means so much to me and I really put my heart and soul into this. This is also written in Calum’s perspective!

Word count: 12.2k (36k total)

Warnings: themes of emotional infidelity but really all internal with no actions,  confusing emotions and thoughts, nudity, slight mention of body image issues, casual drinking, jealousy, sexual situations

Masterlist

Indigo playlist--really just songs that helped inspire this piece so give it a listen if you’d like!

Feedback is always welcome and I’d love to hear your thoughts on this! 

This is split in three parts because Tumblr's new post limit I can't fit it all in one post. So I'll be posting them all at once!

Enjoy!

***

Calum agreed to help out Sarah and Andy with their latest project. He wasn’t quite sure what it was exactly but anything they create is phenomenal and he’s ecstatic to be a part of it. He’d just texted Bianca, his girlfriend, that he’ll be gone for a better part of the afternoon when he arrives at Sarah and Andy’s place. Pebbles greets him at the door, her whole body wiggling with excitement by his presence.

“There’s our man!” Sarah chirps from the table, her camera and other gadgets placed on the table.

“We aren’t shooting here?” Calum asks bending down to pet Pebbles.

“No, there’s this meadow that gets the sun’s rays perfectly at this time,” Andy informs walking in with his own camera bag. “We’re meeting someone else there, too so we should get going.”

“Someone else?”

☆°•.¸☆¸.•°☆

The sun is beating down on Calum’s back as he walks through the tall grass behind Sarah and Andy. They’re a good distance away from the road and he hopes they won’t go too much further and land in the fate of a 90’s horror film. Andy and Sarah are talking quietly with each other and Calum checks his phone, no new messages from Bianca.

“All right, we’ll start setting up and you just sit and relax until she gets here,” Andy directs to Calum when they stop at a fallen tree that has moss growing on it and its roots extending to the sky.

“Who is ‘she’?” Calum asks, taking a seat on the tree. He wipes at the back of his neck, it’s sticky with sweat. His lips are starting to get chapped and he wishes he brought his water bottle.

Andy and Sarah exchange a look.

“She’d prefer to be anonymous so I can’t tell you,” She responds ominously and unzips her camera bag.

“Anonymous?” Calum is baffled. Andy and Sarah make a point to avoid the topic as they continue to gather their equipment.

In about ten minutes there was another figure walking through the grass and Calum peered at her trying to get a good look. Her hair was blowing in the slight breeze and bangs framed her face. Calum was intrigued when she was first mentioned.

Watching her walk towards them made him think of those snapshots in your life that sticks with you. Something inside of him told him this would be one of those moments.

She was short, which was the first thing he noticed when she stopped in front of him.

“Hey guys, sorry I’m late. Traffic, y’know,” she smiles at Andy and Sarah.

He notices there’s a hint of purple in her hair.

She’s short and has purple hair.

“No problem, sweetie. We were just getting things ready. This is Calum,” Sarah nods towards him and the mystery girl turns in his direction too.

“Hi Calum, thanks for helping,” she smiles.

“No problem, Anonymous,” he grins standing from his tree and holds out his hand.

“Oh, right,” she snickers, stepping forward to take his hand. “You can call me Indie.”

She’s short, has purple hair, and likes to be called Indie.

“Nice to meet you Indie.”

☆°•.¸☆¸.•°☆

Andy and Sarah first have Calum and Indie sit next to each other on the tree while they take some sample shots. This way Calum and Indie can get to know each other a little better. Calum notices the ink on her wrists, arms, and a nose piercing. She asked about his music and what inspires him. He asked what she does and she very offhandedly said with a shrug,

“Social media stuff.”

And that was the end of that. She didn’t add anything more and Calum wasn’t sure if he should ask for her to clarify but her statement had a tone of finality to it.

She definitely intrigues Calum.

“Okay, Indie, can you swing your leg over the tree like you’re riding a horse and lean on Calum’s shoulder?” Sarah asks.

“Yeah.”

Indie does as she’s directed then rests her arm on Calum’s shoulder, her head dropping on top of her arm.

“Both of you look at me...good, now Cal, look down at Indie...good, good. Okay, now I want you to put your leg over his...close your eyes for me, babe. That’s it! Beautiful.”

They continue with different poses on the tree and each touch Indie gives to Calum makes the hair on the back of his neck stand up. His body becomes attuned to her touch until Sarah tells Indie to undo her shirt and lay her head on Calum’s lap.

Calum swallows thickly and watches Indie undo the buttons. He looks away quickly wanting to give her privacy and instead looks towards the direction of the road hoping they’re far enough away from peering eyes.

“Now lie across his lap and let the shirt fall over his legs. Yup, Cal... Calum!”

“Huh?” Cal whips his head forward and feels the weight of Indie’s head on his knees. He’s forcing himself to not look down but his body is aware of her weight on him.

He knows this is all a form of art, but he just met the girl and he was unaware this is how the shoot was going to go. He’s posed shirtless for Andy and Sarah multiple times but never with someone else. And never with a girl with purple hair, a gentle voice, and a pen name.

“Lay your arm over her chest.”

“What? Is that okay?” he looks down to Indie’s eyes, they’re a striking deep blue. Like the deepest part of the ocean and he gets a little lost in them. “Is that okay that I do that?” he asks her this time.

“Yeah, it’s fine,” she nods with a smile. “Thank you for asking.”

Calum carefully places his arm across Indie’s exposed chest; he notices how warm her skin already is from the sun but also feels the small poke of her nipples on the softest part of his arm.

“Cover her nipples a bit, Cal, she’s going to post these on her Instagram and you know their dumbass guidelines about breasts,” Sarah rolls her eyes adjusting her camera.

Calum adjusts his arm which means he has to look where her nipples are. He knows the human body is art in its natural form, and he admires the female body so why is he nervous? Is it because they literally just met and her top is open?

He curses himself. It’s not like they’re making an adult film or anything, this is an artistic moment. Shit, why did he think of an adult film because now a million different scenarios flash in his mind. While he places his arm across her chest, he sees some more ink below her breasts but he can’t quite make out the design.

“Indie, put your hands on his arm, spread your fingers…”

Calum hears the rapid shutter speed of her camera as she captures the intimate moment between strangers. Calum wonders why he was chosen to do this. Obviously, Michael wasn’t at the top of the list because he and Crystal are married, and Luke and Sierra just announced their engagement. KayKay is no novice in front of the camera, but maybe they wanted a girl and guy? Usually, Ashton is up for anything involving the human body.

“Cal, you have your thinking face on, man. Relax,” Andy says.

“Don’t be nervous,” Indie whispers gazing up at him.

Those damn blue eyes again. The purple in her hair really makes them pop and he notices a small freckle at the corner of her eye.

“You’re not?” his voice is hushed so Andy and Sarah don’t hear.

“Of course, I am, this is way out of my comfort zone. But this is art, and I want to explore it,” she shrugs.

It eased him that she was nervous as well. He took a deep breath and fixed her bangs in her face.

“That’s good, that’s really good, act natural,” Sarah advises.

“I like the purple,” he compliments, “it really comes out in the sun and makes your eyes stand out.”

“Thank you. I can’t really see your face because of the sun,” she squints up at him and giggles. Calum smiles at the sound.

The session continues and eventually Calum removes his shirt as well which he’s thankful for because he was starting to sweat. He told himself it was because the sun is at its hottest spot in the sky, not because of some cute girl with purple hair and tattoos with her shirt open.

He leans forward on his knees with Indie standing behind him and the tree, her chest pressed to his back and her hands locked under his neck. He wonders if she can hear how loud his heart is beating.

Another pose has him sitting in the grass with her legs hanging over his shoulders. Calum tickles her toes and she squeals out in laughter and Calum knows those will be great shots.

“Hey! Tickling is forbidden!” she laughs. “I will kick you and it will be your fault.”

“You won’t kick me,” he shakes his head but stops tickling her then notices another tattoo on the outside of her ankle. He looks to his right and sees a small red train on the inside of that ankle. “You have a lot of tattoos. What does this one mean?”

His finger traces the red outline of the train and the small speckle of stars shooting from the chimney.

“I loved Thomas the train engine.”

Calum looks up at her not believing her for a second. From this angle he forgets what his smart-ass remark was going to be because her naked midriff distracted him greatly. The ends of her hair tickled over her nipples, her bangs framing her face perfectly.

She gives him a radiant smile that he can’t deny by returning one of his own.

“All right, that’s it for this spot. Ready to head out Indie?” Sarah asks, pulling them from their small moment of connection.

“Yeah, I’m starved,” Indie buttons up her top.

“Want to come, Cal? We’re getting pizza at Marco’s,” Andy says.

“Uh, let me check my phone quickly, hang on,” he pulls out his phone then slips his shirt back on over his head. One notification from Bianca and she just gave his text to her a thumbs up. “Yeah, pizza sounds great.”

He walks next to Indie back to their cars.

☆°•.¸☆¸.•°☆

“How would you guys feel about doing a night shoot back at our place? The city lights in the skyline would be perfect,” Sarah says when she finishes off the last piece of pizza.

“I’m down for that. Can it be partially nude?” Indie asks, sucking up the last of her root beer from the vintage red cup.

“Absolutely,” Sarah nods.

“What do you say, Calum?” Indie looks up to Calum and he feels like she’s challenging him.

“I’m in,” he nods. He’s always up for a challenge.

The night shoot is out on Sarah and Andy’s balcony. Calum watches Sarah and Indie first from the doorway. Indie has her top open again leaning against the railing. She stretches her arms up above her head, extending her torso and Calum can get a better glimpse of that tattoo below her breasts.

It looks like celestial with moons and stars. As the photos progress, she slips it all the way off and leans over the railing. She does a profile view then reaches her hand out to Sarah’s camera for a close up of her fingers. The two women are giggling and Calum won’t deny how natural and confident Indie is in front of the camera even though she admitted to being nervous to him earlier.

Was she telling him the truth or was she just doing that to keep up this anonymous persona?

“Sarah has a way of making people feel comfortable in front of the camera. It’s her loving nature,” Andy explains as if reading Calum’s mind. “This is all Indie’s idea by the way, the shoot. She wants to do a body positivity session.”

“That’s…” Calum watches with wide eyes as Indie drops her shorts and panties then he sees her cute little bare ass. “Nice.” He clears his throat since she’s completely bare. Andy chuckles and nudges him in the ribs.

Calum is suddenly in the need of a cigarette; his fingers begin to twitch.

He watches her as she and Sarah continue to interact. Indie keeps her backside facing Sarah and Calum spots yet another tattoo on the back of her shoulder. Why’d she choose him to be a part of it? Or was it Andy and Sarah who chose him?

Calum opens his mouth to ask when Sarah calls him over.

“Get your ass out here, Hood, it’s your turn. Sit in the chair,” Sarah commands, pulling up said chair right in front of Indie.

Calum keeps his gaze on Indie’s face when he sits in the chair in front of her, his head seems a bit clearer now without her naked body in front of him.

“Shirt off?” he jokes, trying to ease his own tension.

“Please,” Sarah grins and he peels it off again. Of course, she’d say yes. “Baby, can you get the lights for me?”

The outside lights shut off by Andy and replaced by color changing string lights hanging in the rafters. Calum stares up above as they transition from green to yellow to orange and finally to some sort of purple/blue hybrid. Indie’s face comes into view over his shoulder, her fingers dance on his shoulders, her eyes are shining, and her hair is more purple with the added hue.

“Magical,” Sarah comments.

Indie smiles at him and he couldn’t agree more with Sarah’s statement and a few notes of a soft melody sprout in his head.

☆°•.¸☆¸.•°☆

Calum stayed up all night going through Indie’s Instagram. He thought it would show her real name and he’ll deny to his dying breath that he did NOT spend an hour trying to find her profile. Turns out, her social media persona is displayed as Indie too and he wonders why.

Her posts are all about body positivity which include photos of her body that look professionally done in his opinion. Each pose is perfectly posed so you can’t really see everything but know that she’s fully naked. He tries to make out the tattoos he couldn’t see from the night before, but it’s hard with how her body twists and the way they’re edited.

He reads through some of the comments, agreeing with the ones telling how hot and gorgeous she is. He wanted to tell off the creeps and defend her because her message was about loving your body.

Her photos and posts are real and authentic. She talks about her own insecurities, how learning to love her body seems to be an ongoing lesson. He admires her rawness and understands seeing something different when you look in the mirror but when he sees her...he wonders how she can see flaws.

His phone rings right after he hits ‘follow’ and the noise scares him. His heart plummeted when he saw it was Bianca.

“Hey, babe,” he greets and she immediately rattles off about her day.

Calum puts her on speaker so he can continue to scroll through the photos of him and Indie she posted from their shoot. There are comments from some fans inquiring if he and Bianca broke up.

Bianca didn’t really say anything about his photoshoot, but she doesn’t really say much about what he does anyway.

☆°•.¸☆¸.•°☆

The guys are taking a little creative break after bouncing back chords, verses, and beats that they’ve been working on since six in the morning. Ashton was complaining about needing his fifth cup of iced coffee and Michael was starving so the two of them left to pick up lunch and coffee.

Luke and Calum remained behind like always. Luke never stopped working and Calum always kept him company, enjoying the sounds of his soft guitar playing. Ashton’s lava lamp changes to purple and Calum is reminded of Indie so he pulls out his phone and goes to her Instagram.

She’s made a few new posts within the last several days. The first one is of her standing in front of her bathroom mirror with a towel wrapped around her. Her eyes are wide and bright, her hair is in wet strands and the steam frames her reflection. The next one is darker with the towel dropped; two small black hearts are placed on her breasts.

She captioned it: “conversations with myself about loving me are the hardest conversations I have. Sometimes they’re serious and other times goofy, but that’s with the aid of rum. Being gentle with yourself seems so easy until you come face to face.”

The second most recent post is of her and another guy at some sort of festival. They both have on circular sunglasses and the photos are a little blurry. One is a close up of the guy but he’s out of focus and eating a corn dog. The next one is of the two of them standing in front of a funhouse mirror; she has her fingers up in a peace sign. There’s one of them eating cotton candy and the last is of them on the Ferris wheel.

She just captions it as ‘memories.’

The last one she posted was from several hours ago and it was another photo shoot. She was posed with the same guy from the festival only this time she was topless and his arms were around her in front of a mirror. Another one has her lying on a bed with her head hanging off the edge and she’s upside down. The guy is resting his head on her stomach, both of them are looking at the camera and he’s shirtless too. The last one is of her twisted on the bed under the sheets, her ass peeking out and she’s spread across the guy. His hand is very low on her back.

Calum feels a pang in his chest. The pictures are great and all but why is he feeling this sharp pain and warmth in his cheeks?

“Woah, are you on OnlyFans right now?” Luke snorts and Calum jumps from the sound of his voice.

“What?”

“Pretty raunchy, don’t ya think?” Luke grins and then something clicks within Calum.

Could Indie have an OnlyFans account? Is that what she meant by “social media stuff”? He knows it’s one of the most popular adult content websites right now and that pay is really good if you post a lot. Is Indie her...sex name? Is that what that’s called?

“D’you think she has an OnlyFans?”

“I dunno. Who is she?” Luke stops his guitar playing to look at Calum.

“I...I uh did a shoot with her, Andy, and Sarah a few weeks ago.”

“Really? What did you do?”

Calum brings up the session he and Indie did together, handing his phone over to Luke. He suddenly feels very self-conscious and almost wants to snatch his phone back so Luke doesn’t see Indie bare chested. But she posted it on her public Instagram so anyone can see it.

“Wow, you really did a nude shoot?”

“We had our pants on,” Calum scoffs, trying to take his phone back but Luke stretches his arm out of his grasp.

“She doesn’t in these next ones.”

“Give me my phone!” Calum scrambles over Luke’s broad frame to get his phone back. He settles back on the couch in a huff. “Don’t look at those.”

“You showed it to me! Who is she anyway?”

“I don’t really know. She goes by the name Indie but I don’t think that’s her real name.”

“What do you mean?”

“When we arrived at the meadow for the shoot, Andy said we were meeting someone else there and when I asked who it was; Sarah said she wanted to be anonymous. She posts a lot about body positivity and I asked what she does for a living and all she said was social media stuff.”

“OnlyFans is social media. What did Bianca have to say about these photos?”

“Not much,” Calum shrugs and he gets a Twitter notification from her. Does she have a sixth sense to post or call when he’s talking about her?

He opens up the notification and she’s talking about him but very vaguely by only calling him ‘boyfriend’ with a photo attached of him looking down at his phone while they were out to dinner the other night. She brags about him online but hardly does anything with him when they are together. He’s starting to forget why he’s dating her in the first place.

“She had nothing to say about you posing topless with another woman?” Luke’s guitar playing stops and his eyebrows are raised.

“Nope,” Calum sighs and likes Bianca’s post anyway. Their relationship seems to only be about ‘liking’ each other’s posts lately.

“That’s...odd. So, why’re you looking at this girl Indie’s insta anyway?”

“I like what she posts. It’s real and true and a lot of people relate to it. It’s nice,” Calum shrugs. “And she was cool to hang out with at the photo session.”

“Ah, I see. You’re jealous you aren’t in those photos with her.”

“What? No, I’m not.”

“Yeah you are, and you didn’t want me to see her naked bum.”

“How would Sierra feel about that?”

“She’d look with me,” Luke shrugs, “you know that. See if she tagged the guy and find out who he is. If he has an OnlyFans then there’s a possibility she might have one, too.”

“How does that make sense?” Calum asks but clicks on the tagged name anyway because he’s not thinking properly and his curiosity is getting the best of him.

“They promote new content with whoever they did it with.”

“How the hell do you know that?”

“Saw it on TikTok, and there was that rumor that Ash has an OnlyFans so I Googled about it.”

“That’s a weird thing to Google.”

“Please, you’ve Googled worse. So, who is the bloke?” Luke peers over his best friend’s hand to look at his phone screen.

Calum looks back down at his phone on the new profile. He has quite a massive following and a small bio.

“His name is Ian, he’s a model and an extra in TV shows. There’s a link under his name but he posted photos with her, too.”

Calum taps on the post to see it’s of them in that damn bed again. Indie is straddling him but she has on some sort of lace outfit and Ian’s hands are on her waist. They’re both laughing and facing the camera.

“He wrote ‘always a blast doing sessions with you.’ Does that mean photo sessions or OnlyFans stuff?”

“How am I supposed to know? Why does it concern you anyway?”

That stops Calum short. Why does it concern him? His mind is spiraling with his conflicting emotions and the desire to search for more information about this Ian guy. He tosses his phone on the opposite end of the couch.

“It doesn’t concern me. I was curious and now I know you and Sierra subscribe to OnlyFans.”

“What? I didn’t say that at all!” Luke squeaks then narrows his eyes. “Don’t change the subject. Why does it matter if she has one or not?”

“I want to understand her, she didn’t tell me much about her and I’m not sure why.”

“She probably wants to keep her life private. Does she have a big following for what she posts?”

“Yeah.”

“Then maybe she doesn’t want people knowing her business. You can understand that, can’t you?”

“Of course, I can, I--she intrigues me, that’s all. I want to know more about her.”

“Why do you want to know more about her?”

“I don’t know! She...her purple hair and nose ring and tattoos...and her eyes are so damn blue. I don’t understand it.”

Luke is silent for several moments staring at Calum, his blue eyes imploring his friend to tell more. Luke‘s looking at Calum as if he knows something.

Calum is lost in his confusion. Luke moves from the couch and picks up Calum’s notebook and his favorite type of pen. He holds them out to Calum.

“Write about it. Figure it out.”

☆°•.¸☆¸.•°☆

Calum tried to write about it and figure it out and he was a little ashamed of himself for searching for Indie on OnlyFans a few days later after talking with Luke. It made him feel pervy, and even though he didn’t find her, it wouldn’t have changed his outlook on her at all if she did have an account. It only makes him want to learn more about her and not the small number of half-truths he received.

It’s been a month since he saw her and he’s at a party with Roy and Bianca. Bianca was off with her friends so Calum and Roy were left to their own devices which were perfectly fine for Calum. He’s always up for a good time but only when it’s with his close friends who are more like family, not a hundred people who sneak photos of him when they walk by.

He’s scanning the crowd--people watching is his favorite thing to do--when he spots someone with purple hair walk by.

“Indie! Hey!” Roy literally took the words right from Calum’s mouth.

Roy knows Indie?

Indie turns at the sound of her name waiting for her friend to pass and she smiles upon seeing Roy then shows her teeth in a radiant smile when she sees Calum right next to him. She’s got on some overall shorts with one of the straps unbuttoned and a tight black shirt that stops at her midriff. There’s some glitter on her face and Calum is mystified once more.

“Hey Cal, fancy seeing you here. Hey Roy,” she smiles at him and Roy pulls her into a hug. Calum feels a twinge of jealousy that he didn’t receive a hug.

“You two know each other?” Calum asks, eyebrows raised.

“Yeah, Indie comes to my meditation sessions once in a while. It’s been too long since the last one, missy.”

“I’ve been working!” she giggles shoving his shoulder playfully. “I’m in need of a good meditation zone, though. Oh, this is my friend, Travis.”

“Nice to meet you guys,” Travis shakes Calum and Roy’s hands.

Calum eyes him up but before he can say anything else, Travis mentioned something about finding their group of friends.

“I’ll send you details on the next mediation,” Roy tells her before she heads out.

“I look forward to it. Have a nice time,” she smiles at them both and lets Travis guide her through the crowd.

Calum is a bit upset he didn’t really get to talk to her as he watches her disappear into the sea of people. He continues listening to Roy and his latest idea for a new album and what it will be based around. He hums and comments in the spaces he’s supposed to but his mind is off on someone else.

And then he wonders where the hell Bianca got off to.

“What’s wrong with you, man? Your mind is out of this world right now,” Roy comments.

“Nothing, nothing,” Calum shakes his head gruffly and then Bianca appears handing Calum a drink.

“You look parched,” she kisses his cheek and he feels the sticky residue of her lip gloss on his skin.

Calum continues to search for Indie as the night goes on, wanting to discuss how her body positivity project is going. He smiles and poses in the photos with Bianca; he knows both of their smiles are fake. Whenever she touches him, he doesn’t get that same feeling he did when Indie touched him in the meadow.

It’s a little after midnight as he exits the bathroom and bumps into someone.

“Oops, sorry, my faul--Indie! Hey!” he grins down at her.

“Oh! Hi again. Having a good time?” she asks brightly.

“It’s all right, how about you?”

“Not really in the mood to party tonight,” she shrugs, “but my friend Travis from earlier likes a guy here so I’m his wing woman.”

“What a good friend you are,” he smiles. “Have they met up?”

“I got a text from him with the tongue emoji, the fire emoji, and the drooling emoji,” she counts off on her fingers. “I’ve walked around this place twice so I’m assuming he’s all good,” she chuckles.

“So, you’re here all alone?”

“Yeah. I was just about to order an Uber--”

“I can take you home if you’d like. You shouldn’t take an Uber alone.”

“You don’t have to do that. I don’t mind--”

“Hey baby, some of the girls want to go to the club. I’ll see you later,” Bianca appears and gives Calum a very fleeting kiss on the cheek.

“Okay, before you go, this is Indie; remember how I did that photoshoot a month ago?”

Bianca glances at Indie who gives her a bright smile.

“Hi, it’s nice to meet--”

“Oh, yeah! Where you were both half naked! Very hot. I’ll call you tomorrow,” she says offhandedly to Calum then runs off to her friends.

“Nice to meet you, too!” Indie finishes in a half-shout and Calum laughs. “She’s a woman on a mission, huh?”

“Yeah, always has to be where the party's at. How about that drive home?”

☆°•.¸☆¸.•°☆

Once in his car, Indie connects her phone to his Bluetooth and puts on her playlist along with the address of her apartment. Calum watches her scroll through her phone until she selects the first song; its vibe is very chill, fitting the mood of the blue color of his car’s interior lighting. He keeps glancing over to her; the blue really brings out the purple in her hair. She then pulls her hair back and up behind her head in a makeshift ponytail, fanning herself with the other hand.

“Hot?” he asks while pressing the button for the AC. she lets out a yelp of surprise when the cool air blows on her neck from the headrest of her seat.

“I need my seats to have this feature,” she sighs then lets her hair drop over her shoulder. “Thank you for taking me home. Will you meet up with...oh my God, what’s your girlfriend’s name?” she presses her hands to her face, eyes widening in horror. “She left before you could introduce her.”

“Her name’s Bianca, and no, I’ll probably go home. Club life isn’t really my style.”

“Are you hungry?” she asks.

“For what?” He peers at her curiously.

“Have you ever had insomnia cupcakes?”

When they arrive at the small cupcake shop they read over the flavors listed on the bulbous glass display case. The cupcakes are the size of muffins and each time Indie nudges closer to him, he can smell her perfume. It’s citrus with a hint of something else he can’t place but she smells wonderful.

Indie ends up getting a strawberry cupcake with white frosting and pink sprinkles and Calum gets a confetti one which she teases him about.

“What’s wrong with confetti?!” he laughs following her outside and sits at one of the round metal tables.

“It’s like the second most vanilla flavor you could get. Live on the edge!” she swipes off a bit of frosting and sucks it off with a low satisfied moan.

Her eyes close relishing then taste and Calum gets momentarily distracted by her reaction to the cupcake.

“Well, isn’t that vanilla frosting? Not too on the edge yourself, are ya?”

“It’s not vanilla. Here,” she holds her cupcake in front of him, her eyes testing him. “Try a taste.”

He swipes her frosting off, eyes still on hers and he pops his finger in his mouth. His tongue is full of a very zesty lemon flavor, it’s sugary and sweet but light enough where it’s not too overbearing.

“Shit, that’s good.”

“Told you! Now you enjoy your plain confetti over there,” she wiggles in her chair taking her cupcake back. She swipes up more frosting.

“You eat the frosting first?” he asks, unfolding the paper from his cupcake.

“Mhm, the cake is the best part.”

He watches her in wonder as she continues to eat before taking a very large bite of his own treat. Frosting gets on his nose and she loses it when he wipes it off.

“Did I get it all?” he asks, sucking off the frosting from his thumb.

“You missed a spot...right here!”

Somehow she snuck some frosting on her pinky finger and rubbed it onto his cheek and nose. Calum was dumbfounded then when he saw her practically rolling in her chair from laughing, he joined her and wiped it off on her own.

“Thanks for that,” he laughs, licking off the lemon frosting.

“I’m sorry, I had to,” she shrugs and licks off the rest of her frosting from her cupcake.

“I’m going to get you back for that, Indie. Mark my words.”

“I’m trembling in my overalls,” she mocks with a smile.

“You should be,” he teases and takes another large bite of his cupcake.

When their cupcakes are finished they’re back in his car and her music fills the air with sound. He makes note of the band on his screen, Linus Young, so he can look them up later. He turns it down on the song titled ‘Crystal Ball.’

“How’s your latest project coming along?” he asks then moves into the middle lane.

“Pretty good, I guess. I want to do a couple more shots before I do a post. Sarah said she’d help me with it, we just have to find the time.”

“Do you need a partner?” he grins.

“Not for these shots,” she giggles, “but you’re more than welcome to come if you’d like. I’m always open to other artists' creative eyes.”

“Yeah, I’d love to. Do you have an idea on what your next project will be?”

“Um, I don’t know. It’s always centered on self-love and body positivity. I might try something with body paint or shadows. There’s a--”

“Do you have an OnlyFans?” he blurts out then immediately wants the earth to swallow him up whole.

Where the hell did that come from? He wanted to try and ease into it casually but how do you casually bring up a website like that? And now he just blurted it out like an imbecile. He keeps his eyes on the road anticipating a well-deserved slap across his cheek or for Indie to demand he take the next exit and drop her off.

Instead, she laughs. It’s a full-on cackle with a trail of giggles gasping for breath. Indie doesn’t stop until he looks over at her in alarm and with an apologetic grimace.

“Oh, you’re serious?” she squeaks wiping at the corners of her eyes. She takes a deep breath, still chuckling. “Why do you think that?”

“I was showing my friend Luke the shoot we did and when I went to your Instagram he saw your other photos and asked if I was on OnlyFans and he said creators usually post photos like that with a partner they collaborated with or something and you said your job is social media stuff and that’s social media and I’m--I’m an asshole for blurting it out like that. I’m sorry. It’s none of my business but even if you are, that’s great, y’know? No shame or judgment from me whatsoever. And I feel stupid for even trying to search you--”

“You tried searching for me?” she asks but Calum’s on a ranting rampage. “Wow. I’m fl--”

“This makes me sound like a grade A creep. You--”

“Calum!” she laughs resting her hand on his forearm. The hair on his neck stands up at her touch just like in the meadow. “As entertaining as it is to see you stumble over your words and talk this much, stop. I’m flattered you would even think that in the first place, but no, I don’t have an account.”

He risks a glance at her; she gives him a warm smile.

“Do you have an account?” She asks in a hushed whisper.

“What?!” he swerves a little in his lane but thankfully he needs to change over for the exit. His GPS says Indie’s place is only a few more minutes away. “No, no I don’t have one.”

She giggles again but doesn’t say another word.

They’re silent for the remainder of the drive, the music playing softly in the background. He wishes he never said anything and that Luke didn’t bring it up in the first place. Calum makes the few turns indicated on his screen and then parks in front of a duplex. Indie unbuckles her seatbelt, angling herself towards him.

“Would you subscribe if I did?”

He jerks his head in her direction, did he hear her right? He opens his mouth to answer then narrows his eyes, she does the same and they have a narrow-eyed contest until they’re laughing.

“Would you subscribe if I did?” he counters.

“I asked you first.”

He unbuckles himself as well so he can stretch in his seat and run his fingers through his hair. “I’m not going to answer that. Can we pretend I never asked that and this conversation never happened?” He drops his hands to the steering wheel; he needs to have a firm handle on something because clearly his tongue is acting wild.

“What did you ask?”

“What?”

“What conversation are you talking about?”

Calum stares at her, then looks outside as if there’s a hidden camera and he’s being punk’d right now. Is Ashton Kutcher hiding in that trailer?

“We were talking about OnlyFans.”

“Calum! I was playing along! You didn’t ask me anything and we didn’t have a conversation about that unasked question,” she gives him a perky smile.

“You are something else, you know that?” he rubs at his face out of embarrassment and feeling like such an idiot.

“That’s what I’m told,” she sighs.

He feels there’s a story or two there but he’s already invaded her privacy enough tonight. And it’s only the second time actually meeting her.

“Can I ask you something?” She asks.

“Yes. Please do.”

“Why do you want to know what I do?”

Calum rests his head on his seat, turning his head towards her with his hands still on the wheel. She’s situated herself in her seat so that one leg is pulled to her chest and resting against the center console. Her round cheek is cupped in her hand, her eyes wide and captivating.

“I want to know more about you, that’s all.”

“Why do you want to know about me, Cal?”

That question again. The answer is staring him right in the face, it’s on the tip of his tongue, but he just can’t bring himself to say it out loud. So, he alters his answer because he’s already rambled enough for one night.

“You have this ‘I don’t give a fuck’ attitude and a free spirit. You’re sure of yourself and not a lot of people are like that.”

“I definitely do give a fuck about a lot of things. Maybe too much,” she shrugs, removing her hand and leans forward. “You’re sure that’s all?”

She doesn’t ask it in fishing for compliments type of way, it’s more like she knows he’s hiding something, like she knows he sugar-coated his answer. Indie’s eyes have him captured, he’s like a fly caught in a black widow’s web that’s made up of his own lies.

“Ye-es…” he responds slowly.

“You promise?”

Her eyes are steady on his, he squeezes the wheel, arms tightening, knuckles whitening, and the smallest flick of her eyebrow causes him to let out a large exhale. Calum drops his hands in defeat.

“I don’t know how to answer that,” he shakes his head.

She’s looking at him like Luke was looking at him back in the studio.

“You’re…” he licks his lips and swallows down his nerves. “You’re unlike anyone I’ve ever met, Indie. I’ve never been this lost in my head on finding the proper words to say what I want to say. But I can tell you that my intentions are only to get to know you, which I’m certain of.”

“Get to know me as a friend?”

“Friend, photoshoot partner, whatever it is,” he shrugs. “All I know is I can’t stop thinking about you.”

She gives him a small smile with an even smaller nod then takes a deep breath. Her hands rub at her temples as she lets out a frustrated groan covering her eyes with her hands.

“Are you okay?”

“You know that’s the truest thing you’ve said this whole time, Cal? I’d be glad to be your friend but I can’t lie about how I’ve been thinking about you, too.”

“So... what do we do about that?”

Indie removes her hands, her eyes the size of planets holding the same secrecy of the galaxy. He wants to explore every part, every hidden crevice.

“I want to know you, too. But we have to promise--” she holds out her pinky “--that we are friends first and foremost. I don’t trust people easily; I only tell what I think they should know. But my intuition is telling me to trust you and it’s never wrong. Can you do that?”

Calum mulls over her words. He reaches over the console so their faces are closer. He can see the glitter on her cheeks and how they resemble constellations. He cups her cheek; his fingers locking in her hair and captures her lips in a fevered kiss without a thought of the repercussions that will follow.

The kiss is full of sparks, desire, and an innate need. Indie kisses him back with equal hurriedness and soon they’re scrambling to the backseat. Lips still connected, her fingers claw at his shirt and--

“Cal?”

Calum blinks. He’s pulled back to the present, his fantasy betraying him in the worst possible way from the reality of Indie still holding her pinky out for him.

The kiss was all in his head. Going against his selfish desires, he hooks his pinky with hers and Indie’s face turns serious.

“We promise to always stay friends, no matter what. Promise?”

“I promise.”

“We promise that no matter what comes from the darkness, what secrets will surface, or whatever urges may arise, we are friends first and won’t let those things change that. Promise?”

“I promise,” he nods, tilting his head to the side in amusement as she continues.

“And above all else...we won’t leave or abandon one another. Promise?”

“I promise.”

“Good. I promise, too,” she stares at their joined pinkies.

“You okay?” he asks, feeling the shift within her.

“Yeah...it’s a little...I’m giving you all my trust. It’s a little scary.”

He squeezes her pinky then covers their joined hands with the palm of his other hand. He cocks his head lower until she looks at him with shining, vulnerable eyes.

“I promise I won’t break it, Indie.”

He wonders if she catches the double entendre to his promise because while he said it about her trust, he could tell she’s wearing her heart on her sleeve. He doesn’t want to break that either.

☆°•.¸☆¸.•°☆

Calum has been walking on air ever since that night with Indie a few weeks ago promising to be friends. Is he attracted to her? Absolutely. That at least is something he can admit even if it is in his own head. Will he act on those thoughts? No, because he has respect for Indie and his relationship with Bianca.

Things between him and Bianca have gotten a little better; they go out more and she’s asked him about his music. When he’s mentioned he has this tune stuck in his head that he can’t figure out she doesn’t say too much about it and quickly transitions to her next appearance promoting a new line of liquor.

Calum’s confident he can push his attraction for Indie to the side and make their friendship a priority. He’s never had a female best friend before but it’s an easy transition with her.

After that night they exchanged numbers and were quick to start sending funny memes and TikTok videos. Calum downloaded the app solely because of her and when he discovered she had a few videos of her own, he watched the four videos relentlessly.

“You’re a very talented lip syncer, you should go pro,” he’d told her one day over FaceTime while he was making breakfast.

“There’s no such thing as a pro lip syncer,” she snorted back. She was applying makeup in her bathroom sitting cross legged on the counter with her feet in the sink.

“Yeah there’s that show on MTV or some shit where you dress up and put on a whole performance.”

“I would literally die if I had to perform in front of people. No thank you.”

Calum laughed then watched her apply her eyeliner with careful strokes and perfect precision. Whenever she did her makeup she had her hair pulled back in a loose ponytail and her bangs clipped up so she wouldn’t get makeup on them. Seeing her whole face for the first time filled him with even more intrigue and he thought she was even more beautiful.

“Why do you do that on the sink?” he asked, flipping his egg on his toast.

“So I can get closer to the mirror. It’s a girl thing. Doesn’t Bianca do it?”

“Dunno, I’ve never seen her put her makeup on before.”

He would send her photos and videos of Duke and each time she’d comment on how adorable he is and that she would steal him one day.

“You’ll have to get through me first,” he grinned.

“I can take you. It’s one of my superpowers.”

“What superpower is that exactly?”

“If I tell you then my cover’s blown, duh.”

“Why don’t you show me then?” he teased with a slight hint of flirtation.

“Cal…” she warned but couldn’t help her giggle.

“All right, all right,” he smiled, scratching at his head. “Sorry.”

There would be some innocent slip-ups like that throughout their conversations. Calum just felt so at ease with Indie and when she asked him to help her with a photoshoot of hers he was more than excited to accept.

When he arrived at her place, there was music playing from down the hall and he heard voices followed by Indie’s laugh. He follows the sound right into her bathroom where she is with another girl while the bathtub was running water, bubbles rising.

“Did you finally get your own dog?” he asks and the two girls turn at his voice.

“No, it’s for the photos,” Indie smiles. “Cal, this is Inka, she’s going to be in the photos with me and helping you take them.”

“Nice to finally meet you, Calum,” Inka smiles.

Inka’s a little taller than Indie with flowing ink black hair, wide set eyes and brown skin. She has a septum piercing and is also very good looking.

“Nice to meet you,” he nods, and then turns fearfully to Indie. “I’m taking the photos? Shouldn’t you ask Sarah, she’s a professional.”

“I don’t want them to look professionally done. Inka’s big on water photography so she’ll help you. And we need someone to take photos of us together.”

“All right, so…” he glances at the tub that Inka is now bent over testing the water. “What’s with the bubble bath?”

“That’s where we’ll be,” Indie grins, removing her shorts.

Calum is so caught off guard by being the photographer that his eyes watch her step out of them, but finds she has on swimsuit bottoms. At least he won’t be distracted this time like in the meadow or at Andy and Sarah’s when she was completely naked.

“Are you alright with us being topless, Cal?” Inka asks removing her own shorts. He spots some ink on her skin as well, he wonders if they got tattoos together at one point. The styles are pretty similar.

“I’m fine if you guys are,” he shrugs then eyes up the Polaroid sitting on the counter. “I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable with me here; I respect the artistry of the naked body.”

“All I needed to hear,” Inka says with a sigh. “The water’s perfect, Indsy. I’ll put on music that helps me get in the zone.”

“Is this the camera I’ll be using?” Calum asks, pointing to the Polaroid as Inka changes the music on her phone to something with a bit of soul to it. The voice echoes very softly within the bathroom.

“Yeah, it’s Inka’s. She’ll show you how to use it while I’m in there. Thanks for helping with this, everyone couldn’t or thought it was weird when I asked them.”

“Glad to be of assistance,” he smiles down at her, noticing she doesn’t have makeup on. “You look nice by the way.”

“Thank you. I’m going to take my top off now,” she touches his arm as if in assurance, her eyes widening slightly. “Will you be okay?”

He knows she’s teasing but he links his pinky with hers that’s on his arm.

“Promise. Now get in there,” he jerks his head towards her bath.

“Sheesh, you’re a demanding assistant.”

She backs away and he examines the camera with curiosity. When Inka and Indie converse behind him, he lifts his eyes to their reflection in the mirror just as Indie is pulling her t-shirt off. Her eyes meet his as she tosses it to the floor and it’s as if the moment slows before she’s stepping into the water.

“Inka! This is too hot!” she squeals, pulling her foot out.

“No, it’s not! Calum, come feel the water.”

He turns and stands next to Indie; he bends to the floor pressing his hand through a mountain of bubbles. It’s pretty warm but he’s come to realize that Indie doesn’t like hot things.

“I think it’s fine but it is too hot for her,” he agrees with Indie.

“Well, you’ll get used to it and if your cheeks get a little red or your chest, then it will make the pictures better.”

Indie sighs; she puts her hand on Calum’s shoulder for extra support and puts her foot in the water again. She lets out a hiss and stands there for a couple seconds. Calum grabs her hand and holds her fingers when she places her other foot in the tub as well. He watches her scrunch her face at the temperature, he can see a red splotch blooming on her chest already and she’s not even fully in yet.

“Darling, it’s really not that bad,” Inka sighs rubbing at Indie’s shoulder. “Is it?”

“I just need to let myself get used to it,” Indie replies and drops a knee, her fingers’ holding onto Calum’s tightly.

“I can get a cold washcloth for you,” he offers but Indie shakes her head and drops her other knee.

“I’ll be okay. Can you get me a bottled water from my fridge?”

“Yeah, I’ll be right back,” he nods and he releases her fingers.

When he returns, Indie is fully in the bath, her hair cascading over her back like a dark purple curtain. Her knees are drawn up to her chest and Inka is on the floor with her camera pointed at Indie. Indie’s head is on her knees, her body curving forward, eyes big and her lips pouting slightly.

Calum doesn’t like how she looks sad even if he knows it’s for the aesthetics of it all. Indie looks up at him then stretches a now bubbly arm towards him for the water.

“Wait, stay like that for a minute!” Inka instructs Indie's pose and the camera clicks. “Okay, you can take it.”

Calum sits against the cabinets next to Inka, paying attention to the buttons on the camera before she takes a picture. Indie leans back with her head tilted back and eyes closed, her breasts pointing out. Then she rested her arms on the edge of the tub, her cheek falling perfectly in the crook of her elbows and she eyed up the camera and Inka. When she looked at Calum, he forgot how to swallow.

“Okay, ready for me?” Inka asks, standing up from her place on the floor.

“You’re going to complain about the water though,” Indie rolls her eyes playfully and turns the tap back on. She shifts to the opposite end so she doesn’t feel the hot water.

“Just take photos you think would be good as candid’s,” Inka instructs handing Calum the camera.

He’s nervous now. He doesn’t want to mess up their vision and he runs over what Inka told him in his head as she takes off her tank top and climbs in with Indie.

“This is so tepid!” Inka shrieks and Indie laughs.

“It’s perfect!”

“You’re such a little weirdo,” Inka drops into the water and pushes the running water towards Indie. Indie sticks her tongue out.

While the water continues to run, Calum takes some practice shots and Inka starts to pull her hair up in a very messy bun with loose strands kissing her cheeks and forehead. She looks very good, actually. Inka has a natural beauty to her, much like Indie does. Calum took photos of that process, Inka is confident in herself like Indie is; it’s all in her posture.

“Remember the first time we were in the bath together?” Indie asks, leaning against the wall.

“Yeah, you were drunk and thought your tub was a whirlpool. But you turned the shower on instead and I thought you were drowning,” Inka laughs.

Calum captures their smiles. He remains silent as they place bubbles on each other’s noses or blow them at each other from their hands. He tries to take as many of those as he can because he thinks they’re charming.

He discovers they’ve been friends ever since Indie moved to L.A and have gone through tough things with each other like bad relationships, loss of jobs, and fallouts from a whole group of friends they were involved in. The more they talked, the closer they got in the tub.

“Here, turn around, I want to get some shots like this,” Indie tells Inka.

They’re in a fit of giggles and laughter as Inka maneuvers in the water, some of the bubbles are rolling down the sides of the tub. Once they’re situated, Indie scoots closer until she’s pressed against Inka’s back. Calum’s reminded of feeling her pressed against his back at Andy and Sarah’s.

“Look at Cal,” Indie says and they both turn to Calum.

He snaps the photo.

“How are you doing over there Mr. Camera Man?” Inka asks leaning against Indie.

“Great. How’re you guys?” he asks.

“Hungry. I want some pizza,” Indie sighs. She presses her cheek to Inka’s neck and wraps her arms around her stomach.

“We’ll order some afterwards,” Inka lifts her hand and pats at Indie’s head affectionately. “Does Calum know you need to be fed every few hours?”

“You make me sound like a baby,” Indie laughs. “Does Calum know?” She directs the question to him in third person, looking at him expectantly.

“Yes, I discovered she gets very feisty when she’s hungry,” Calum laughs.

“He’s a good egg,” Indie says and kisses Inka’s neck.

“Wait, do that again,” Calum says and Indie presses her lips to Inka’s neck. He snaps the picture and he grins. “That’s a good one.”

“Stay professional over there, sir,” Inka warns, narrowing her eyes.

“I am! It’s a sweet moment that’s all. You guys are close and have been through a lot. There aren’t too many friendships like that.”

“I always tell her she’s my soulmate,” Inka pats Indie's cheek then spins around again in the water.

“My friend Ash and I say the same thing.”

“You two take baths together, too?” Inka asks and Indie laughs.

“No,” he laughs. “We wouldn’t fit.”

That gets them both laughing and he snaps a picture of it, the pure joy and amusement on their faces. He notices goosebumps are on Indie’s arms.

“You’re getting cold, Indie,” he comments.

“Yeah, we should get out soon. Did you get some good photos?” she asks, sitting up a little straighter, her hands on the edge of the tub.

“Wait, Cal get one more picture,” Inka stops Indie from standing.

He poises the camera to his eye again and watches as Inka leans in and gives Indie a soft kiss on the lips. She holds the kiss so he can take the picture and he keeps snapping when they pull away and smile at each other.

They both rise from the tub with more water sloshing over the sides; all the bubbles are gone now. Calum stands handing them each a towel; he’s trying to wrap his head around that kiss. He kisses his friends too, but to see Indie be kissed by a girl made that pang form in his chest again like when she hugged Roy and not him.

He shouldn’t be jealous; they’re just friends and he pinky promised.

“I’ll order some pizza and upload these so we can look at them,” Inka says, wrapping the towel around her. She folds it over so it’s held to her body like a strapless dress. “Time to put your camera skills to the test.”

The photos ended up looking really well. He could tell the differences between his and Inka’s, hers were angled in different ways to make the focal point look cool. His photos were straighter on but Inka was impressed by some of his close-up shots of their laughter.

The three of them watched a movie as they ate their pizza, laughing at the scenes and more memories that came about for Indie and Inka. Calum really liked Inka and she gave him a hug when she left, promising she’ll contact him if she needs his help for her own photos.

“You have her approval by the way,” Indie says, moving back to the couch pulling her blanket over her legs.

“Approval?” He joins her resting his arm over the back of her couch.

“Of being my guy best friend. This was sort of a test of hers by having you deal with our shenanigans and being half naked in the tub.”

“Elaborate, please?” he chuckles. “Did she think I’d be weird about it?”

“She’s a little protective over me. We’re best friends but…” Indie looks at her hands in her lap; she starts to play with the edge of the blanket.

“But…?” he prompts and she bites her lip. “I feel like this is a pinky promise moment.”

“It is.”

He holds out his pinky waiting for her to link their fingers. She takes in a deep breath and hooks her pinky around his but she doesn’t let it go when she speaks. Her eyes are trained on their pinkies.

“Inka and I dated actually, for a short time. It was right when I moved out here and we got super close super-fast, I felt the most comfortable with her in the friend group I fell into. She’s the first one I voiced my attraction to women about and she said she was the same. We both don’t like labels. And... Yeah, we dated for a couple months but both agreed our friendship was more important than if we broke up badly.”

“So, you’re attracted to men and women or just women?” he asks softly.

“Both,” she says, her eyes still on their pinkies. “Inka’s the only woman I’ve dated and have been with but I’ve had other crushes. They just never went anywhere.”

“Hey, look at me,” he tugs on her pinky lightly until her eyes meet his. “Why do you seem scared?”

“When I tell other guys about it they get all weird and ask for threesomes or they get freaked out like I'm going to cheat on them with her or something. I’m attracted to girls but it’s more than attraction, too.”

“I get it,” he nods, “you don’t have to explain to me. You care for people for who they are. I’m sorry if you felt cautious to tell me. You can tell me anything, Indie.”

“It’s just nerve wracking, that’s all,” she lets out a shaky laugh. “I knew you wouldn’t be creepy with the photos but while we were doing them I figured this would be a good time to tell you.”

“Thank you for telling me, it helps me get to know you better,” he smiles. She gives him one back then pulls her pinky away so she can give him a hug.

He holds her tightly, feeling how fast her heart is beating. They didn't let go until her heart slowed down and matched his.

☆°•.¸☆¸.•°☆

Every day at the studio, Luke would pester Calum asking when they would finally get to meet Indie. Not long after, Ashton and Michael would chime in as well about wanting to meet her and Calum would do his best to ignore them. But he knows his brothers and they’re persistent to the point where it will make you go mad if you don’t agree.

Today was more of a chill day tossing random lyrics and notes around trying to make it into a song. While the other three were goofing off, Calum was at the piano trying to work out the notes that have been swimming in his head for the last couple months. He has the first and last notes down pat but what is in the middle? He can’t figure it out.

“Hey, Cal,” Luke calls, “you should have a party tonight.”

“What for?”

“So, we can all hang out, drink, eat, meet Indie…”

Calum’s hands fall away from the keys and he twists around on the bench to see Luke smiling with all his teeth. He looks like that emoji with his teeth bared.

“Why do you want to meet her so badly?”

“She’s friends with you, we want to be friends with her as well,” Luke shrugs.

“Roy knows her, why can’t we?” Ashton adds.

“Yeah, is she even real at this point?” Michael chortles.

“Yes, she’s real,” Calum rolls his eyes. “How—”

His phone buzzes on the table.

“It’s Indie!” Luke exclaims trying to snatch up the phone.

Calum darts forward grabbing his phone before they can. Thankfully, it was just a text because he knew if he picked up the phone one of them would have found a way to speak with Indie and say something ridiculous.

“Stop acting like we’re twelve,” Calum shakes his head. “Two of you are married.”

“I’m engaged, actually,” Luke corrects, leaning back on the couch. He crosses his converse covered feet at the ankles. “What’d she want?”

Against his better judgment, Calum opens the message to see three photos and a text. They’re all the same photos just taken in different positions. It’s her naked body, from just below her breasts to the tops of her thighs. She’s poised in a way that you can’t see anything and it ranges from black and white, sepia, and the original photo.

‘Which one should I post?’ was the text sent.

“She sent me photos asking for help on which ones to pick for a post,” Calum says already typing away about how she should do all of them. Then he asks how her day’s going. He looks up at his friends and they’re giving him the same look of expectation. “Ugh, fine! If I invite her over you can’t be weird as shit like you are right now.”

They whoop and holler at that news.

“Finally, we get to meet the infamous Indie,” Luke sighs, resting his head on his hands. Calum throws a pillow right at his face.

☆°•.¸☆¸.•°☆

All of Calum’s friends are mingling in the backyard and kitchen area, conversation and laughter is heard over the low sound of the music playing. He’s ordered pizza and wings for everyone to enjoy and they should be delivered in about forty-five minutes. He’s been anxiously waiting for Indie to arrive but is also nervous about how the guys will act around her.

Bianca is out of town so she couldn’t make it and Calum wasn’t too sure what his feelings are about her not being here. She told him to have fun and not get too rowdy, so he appreciates that small sentiment.

Indie was excited to meet everyone else when he called her and when she asked if she could bring a friend, he assumed it was Inka so he of course said yes.

Boy was he ever wrong.

He was popping open another white claw when Andy and Sarah announced her name. He looks up in excitement to see her hugging Sarah but then it falters when he sees it’s not Inka that’s next to her. It’s that guy Ian from her Instagram posts that she posed with. The pang in his chest is back when Ian places his arm over Indie’s bare shoulders and shakes Andy and Sarah’s hand.

Calum takes notice of her outfit; she has on a dark blue top with the sleeves that only go to the tops of her arms and black jean shorts with some black boots. Her dark purple hair is pulled back behind her head in a sort of braid.

“Hey isn’t that—”

“Indie?” Calum finishes Luke’s sentence and takes a long drink of his white claw. “Yeah, let’s go introduce you.”

Ashton and Michael met them by Indie and she gave Calum a big smile.

“Hey! How’re you?” she asks rising on her tiptoes to give him a hug. Ian and Calum’s eyes meet briefly before Indie pulls away.

“I’m good, glad you could come,” Calum forces a smile. “Uh, these are the guys. It’s about time you all met. This is Luke, Ashton, and Michael. Guys, this is Indie.”

“So, you are a real person,” Ashton nods, shaking her hand.

“As opposed to what? A blow-up doll?” Indie teases and Michael chokes on his own drink.

Calum grins because he knows she’ll be able to handle herself around them. He just hopes they don’t say anything about him that would raise questions.

“I like you,” Ashton smiles. “Who’s this you brought along?”

“Oh! Right, sorry. This is Ian,” she introduces.

Calum eyes him up while he shakes his friends’ hands. He’s about the same height as Calum with short brown hair that kind of sticks up in the front. He’s got tan skin, an arm of tattoos, and has a lean muscular build.

“And this is Calum,” Indie introduces him last.

Calum notices she didn’t say ‘my friend’ or ‘my boyfriend’ when introducing Ian, so what is he exactly?

“Good to finally meet you, man,” Ian holds out his hand.

“Likewise,” Calum makes sure his grip is tight, but so is Ian’s. “Help yourselves to drinks from the coolers and kitchen. Pizza and wings should be coming soon.”

The pang in Calum’s chest only grows as the night progresses. He’s not quite sure what to make of Ian except that he and Indie are very comfortable with each other. When Calum is in ear shot they’re always flirting and touching each other.

“Sooo…” Luke drawls sidling next to Calum. “He’s that guy from her Instagram, right?”

“Yup.”

“Are he and Indie dating?”

“No idea,” Calum’s voice is clipped. He takes a drink of his white claw. The pang keeps getting sharper, his fingers are twitching for a cigarette and now he really wants some weed.

“Are you all right?”

Calum watches Ian come up behind Indie with another drink for her and he smacks her ass then proceeds to rub her back. Indie smiles up at him taking the cup.

“Yeah, I’m all right. We’re just friends,” Calum sighs.

When the party dwindled down, it was only Ashton, Michael, Luke, Andy, Sarah,Indie and Ian left sitting around the firepit. The conversation transitions from topic to topic that are mainly centered on Indie and finding out more about her. Just as Calum suspected, she’s very cryptic in her responses and that makes him smile. Calum’s sitting across the way from her and her legs are resting on Ian’s lap. Ian’s hands are rubbing at her calves.

Calum tells himself it doesn’t bother him.

Somehow the conversation turned to sex, which isn’t all that uncommon for their group but Calum was shooting daggers at Ashton because he didn’t want Indie to feel uncomfortable. As always, she surprised him and she was asking her own questions. Everyone answered her question of what their first time was like and they were all great stories of embarrassing moments.

When it came for her to answer, Calum sat up a little straighter in his chair.

“I was nineteen, wasn’t expecting it to happen at all. And you’re always told ‘oh, it’s this magical moment! You’ll be changed forever!’ but it literally lasted two or three minutes and I was like, ‘that’s it?’” she giggles. “I didn’t feel changed at all.”

“Two minutes?” Michael laughs. “Was it his first time too?”

“Hey, in my defense I’ve wanted to do it with her for a long time and when it finally happened…I lost control,” Ian smiles. “That tends to happen with Indie.”

Calum’s ears feel hot and it’s not from the fire. He ignores Luke’s quick glance to him from the bit of information that Ian was the first guy Indie had sex with.

“And we were also in your parent’s living room,” Indie giggles some more.

“All right, so now the next question…most rounds in one night?” Ashton asks lighting up another joint.

Calum wants to strangle him.

“What the hell is with all the sex talk, mate?” he finally asks trying to play it off as nonchalant, but the way Luke and Michael fidget, he knows it didn’t sound that way. No one else seems to notice, if Indie did he doesn’t know because he doesn’t dare look at her now.

“It’s a beautiful thing. It brings people closer by being open about it,” Ashton rests his ankle on his knee.

Calum snorts and shakes his head crossing his arms. He shakes his leg in annoyance.

Everyone says one or two rounds with little stories with each one. Michael made everyone laugh when he said one and a half.

“I was super drunk and it finally caught up with me and…yeah, I fell asleep,” Michael chortles. His eyes are heavy from drinking.

“That poor girl,” Andy says.

“I married her, so you know she’s the one,” Michael smiles.

“Where are Crystal and Sierra? I was looking forward to meeting them, too,” Indie says.

“They’re both at some fashion expo,” Luke explains. “We’ll all get together; they want to meet you too.”

Then fashion is the next topic of conversation until Ashton opens his mouth again. The weed must have set him off in a very inquisitive buzz.

“Indie, you didn’t answer the round's question.”

“I don’t want to be judged,” she holds up her hands in defense.

“This is a judgment free zone, this is a safe space, c’mon,” Ashton smiles lazily.

Indie looks at each person individually, except Calum before she answers.

“Three times,” she sighs, staring into the fire.

There’s a collective ‘woah’ around the group and sounds of approval. She tries to hide her smile but fails and ends up covering her face.

“Damn, that dude’s got stamina,” Michael says.

“It was a fun night,” Ian smirks while taking a drink of his beer. Indie smacks him in the shoulder and that earns even more of a reaction from the group.

They all want to know details and context, but Calum is seething. He really wants to get up and leave because he doesn’t want to hear anymore, but he knows that will cause more questions.

He remains silent for the rest of the night thinking about everything and questioning everything. He wants to know if Indie and Ian are dating and he wants to know why it matters to him so much. It really shouldn’t and that just makes him angrier.

He’s glad his friends are getting along with Indie, but he wishes it weren’t in this type of context.

When everyone had left, Calum was stuffing plates and cups in a large trash bag then he was going to light up a joint in hopes that would help calm his mind and rid his thoughts of seeing Ian and Indie together. He doesn’t even want to think about what they’re doing right now.

☆°•.¸☆¸.•°☆

Taglist: @calumance  @in-superbloom @calpalirwin @karajaynetoday @wiiildflowerrr-blog1 @sunshineeeluke @littledrummeraussie @suchalonelysunflower @hoodhoran @Fobodob @thew0rldneedsmcreycghurt @sunshineeashton @ashtonsunflower​ @mymindwide​ @itjustkindahappenedreally @seanna313 @fivesecondsofonedirection @mulletcal @pandaxnienke @sebsbrokentoe @heartskippeddabat

#Caum hood fic #calum hood x oc #calum hood slow burn #calum smut #calum hood writing #calum angst #calum hood angst #5sos writing #5sos fics

[thestupidhelmet]

One difference: Donna gives the Zeppelin tickets to Jackie and Hyde when she finds out about their kiss?

It's the perfect one-shot material, and I would LOVE to read it coming from you

Sorry for bothering you by the way, this is just a silly little prompt that's been in my mind for a LONG time

It's no bother at all! 😃 In fact I ended up writing you (and myself and everyone else) a ficlet inspired by your ask.

I think that scenario could make a good one-shot, but for me it doesn't have enough stakes to write as a One Difference story. Plus, it wouldn't be possible without several important differences established at the get-go, not just one:

Donna can't or won't go to the concert herself for some reason; remember, the point of that storyline is her choosing whom to go to the concert with since Eric is unavailable.

Fez and Caroline's mutual romantic interest and awkwardness in engaging with each other would have to be reworked so Donna doesn't feel compelled to give them the concert tickets.

Jackie would have to want to go to the concert despite Donna not being with her. Jackie's goal in that episode is "to win". What drives her in that episode is a combination of ego, greed, and the validation that Donna would enjoy her company best out of her, Hyde, and Kelso.

With all those variables taken care of, the way I'd approach the story is the following.

I would take Donna having learned about Jackie and Hyde's kiss out of the equation. Jackie and Hyde's Veteran's Day date isn't a secret. Everyone at the Formans' BBQ, including Kelso and Fez, heard Hyde tell Jackie they were going "on a freakin' date."

The mystery for Jackie and Hyde's friends is what happened during that date. Since Jackie and Hyde don't have a follow-up date and essentially go back to status quo, mystery solved: the date was a dud.

Mystery solved for everyone but perceptive Donna.

She spots Hyde's uneasiness around Jackie. For a month, he's been working on shutting himself off from his romantic feelings toward Jackie -- as well as the resentment he's experiencing from her having pursued him so long only for him to be left "holding the bag" (i.e. be the one with unrequited feelings he never wanted, that developed against his will for a variety of reasons, some of which he'd done his best to avoid -- but Jackie's ignoring of his no and his boundaries made that impossible).

Donna tries to get the truth out of Hyde the direct route. No go, but she figured that was a long shot. So she gives him the concert ticket, knowing he wouldn't miss seeing Led Zeppelin for anything.

Even if Jackie's in the arena seat next to him.

Donna gives Jackie the other ticket without Hyde's knowledge. When Jackie learns Donna isn't going with her, Jackie hands back the ticket and says, "Oh, forget it. Just scalp the ticket and give me half of whatever you get."

Donna: Okay, but I gave the other ticket to Buddy Morgan.

Upon hearing this, Jackie snatches back the ticket. Going to a concert with Buddy will up her social status in school. Donna tells her, though, that he won't be taking her since it's not a date. She'll have to get to the concert on her own.

When Hyde and Jackie discover each other at the concert, Hyde curses under his breath.

Jackie: You're not Buddy Morgan.

Hyde: No crap.

Jackie: Ugh. Did he sell the ticket to you? He's rich! He doesn't need the money -- unless his parents cut him off. What a nightmare.

Hyde: You're tellin' me.

Jackie: What do you know about being cut off financially? You never had any money to begin with.

Hyde: Back to normal. Great. [He thinks: Jackie acting like the snobby, judgmental Jackie he first encountered will help him get over him faster.] But that's not what I meant, man. If you ruin this concert for me, I'm gonna-

Jackie: If I ruin this concert for you? Steven, you've been a big fat jerk to me all month. If anyone's going to ruin anything, it's you ruining tonight for me.

Hyde: I haven't been a jerk.

Jackie: So you've just been being yourself? That's a relief.

Hyde: Uh ... okay.

Jackie: Don't you understand? It means I didn't make a mistake. I was right when I said I felt nothing when we kissed. I already had one terrible boyfriend. I don't need another, so I'm glad there was no -- [gestures with her hand in the air] -- spark between us.

Hyde tries to follow-up on what Jackie just said, but the concert starts. They spend the first half ignoring each other, but the music's so good they can't help but connect through it: glancing at each other and smiling during certain songs, dancing (i.e. swaying) at the same time, etc.

Afterward, on their way out of the arena, Jackie says, "I knew you could dance, but I didn't know you swayed."

Hyde: I don't sway.

Jackie: You swayed for most of the concert!

Hyde: That's called rockin' out.

Jackie: Looks like swaying to me.

Hyde: You should get yourself some freakin' glasses then.

Jackie: Excuse me?

Hyde: Nothing.

In the parking lot, Jackie asks how Hyde's getting back to the Formans'.

Hyde: Bus.

Jackie: It's almost midnight.

Hyde: So?

Jackie: The bus hardly ever shows up around this time of night, and you'll be fighting for a spot on it with a bunch of bus-dwellers.

Hyde: Guess so. [He begins to walk away from her.]

Jackie: Steven wait! I'll drive you home.

Hyde: No, thanks. Wouldn't want you to have to spend any more time with me then you have to, and I sure as hell don't want to spend more time with you.

Jackie: God, you really are such a jerk! Just let me drive you home. Maybe that'll make you hate me a little less.

Hyde: Who said I hated you?

Jackie: You don't have to say it. You're showing me.

Hyde: Look, I don't hate you. I just can't stand bein' around you.

Jackie: Why? I thought we were past that.

A high and/or drunken stranger passes by them, knocking Jackie into Hyde.

Jackie and Hyde: Hey! Watch where you're going!

Jackie [shoving herself away from Hyde]: Watch where you put your hands.

Hyde: Watch where you put your body.

Jackie: That guy pushed me into you. You could've stepped back and let me drop to the pavement.

Hyde [scoffing]: Right.

Jackie: Right. ... So are you going to let me drive you home or not?

Hyde: Whatever.

But Hyde walks with Jackie to her car and gets into the passenger seat. They don't talk at all during the drive to the Formans'. She pulls into the Formans' driveway. He gets out of the car and halfway closes the passenger-side door before saying a quick, "Thanks."

Jackie watches Hyde enter the Formans' backyard and disappear down the basement stairs. She says, "Thanks," back, although he can't hear her. He didn't let her fall while Michael, in the past, had been the one to shove her aside to save his own skin. She begins to suspect Hyde's attitude change toward her isn't random.

The next day, Jackie and Hyde both confront Donna in the basement about pairing them up at the concert. Donna tells them she's sick of their bickering, especially Hyde's.

Hyde: Me? I'm just tryin' to live my life without dealin' with Jackie's B.S.

Jackie: My ... what is wrong with you? What did I do?

Hyde: Let's focus on who we're really pissed at, man: Donna.

Jackie: No, Donna's right. You've been treating me like garbage since our date.

Hyde: Hey, I warned you a hundred times about who I am. Not my fault you ignored it.

Jackie: This is not who you are.

Hyde: That's not what you said last night.

Jackie: I was angry at you last night ... and you've been angry at me for the last month! Oh, my God, you felt something during our kiss, didn't you?

Hyde [incredulous]: No! Donna, tell her she's nuts.

Donna: Hold on, you two kissed?

Jackie: Yeah. It was really hot, but it made me realize I'm not in love with Steven. I was idolizing him, just like you told me.

Donna: You two kissed?

Hyde: Who cares? It meant nothin'.

Jackie: It was very special, actually. I'm grateful you gave me a chance after all your rejection, and I'm sorry I don't have true feelings for you. That doesn't mean I don't care about your feelings.

This conversation is hitting too close to home for Hyde. Jackie's honesty also hurts. Hyde needs to end this interaction and establish a new status quo between himself and Jackie, one where he doesn't have to have conversations like this. Especially in front of a witness.

Hyde: That's cool. Alls I got to say about our date is you clearly got no clue how I felt 'cause you never listen to what I freakin' say. If you did, we never would've ended up on the hood of your car. We're never gonna be friends, but if some dillhole crashes into you and I'm around, I won't let you hit pavement.

Hyde leaves and locks himself in his room. Jackie gazes after him, sadly, while Donna looks at Jackie questioningly.

Jackie: Poor Steven. ... He's in love with me.

~The End~

#That 70s Show #That '70s Show #Jackie x Hyde #Jackie Burkhart #Donna Pinciotti #Ask #Anon #Fanfic #Ficlet #Fanfic Idea

[moral-turpitudes]

Silver Linings: Part 3

Masterlist | Rules | Peaky Prompts 

Trigger Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Swearing.

Word Count: 1,931

Characters: Alfie Solomons x Adopted Daughter!Reader + Michael Gray x Alfie’s Adopted Daughter!Reader

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | *Part 4* | Part 5

As Y/N put the last of her furniture in the living room, she heard the new phone ring. Running over and picking it up with an exhausted hello.

“I know we got off on a bad foot love, but I’m gonna need you to be careful. That blinder Michael, ya know the one I’ve been meeting for the last month? He’s been shot.” Alfie said, nonchalantly.

“No....” She said, tears welling up in her eyes as she sniffled lightly. The feeling of a lump forming in her throat as she tried to swallow the news.

“Are you crying? You don’t know the lad anyways right? He’s in surgery that’s all I know. Got shot by that damn mafia who’s been causing us problems.” He said.

“I do know him....Where is he? Where’s the rest of Mr. Shelby’s men?” She asked, frantically wiping the tears away.

“Fuck. Y/N is he the one? Is he the one you’ve been with? You could’ve been killed!” He said angrily.

“I know dad, please just tell me where he is....I-I know you’re upset and I know the blinders will be too. I should’ve never came out from the back when they stopped by but god damn it I was trying to do my job and trying to live for myself for once. If you had a shred of decency you’d understand that...now where is he?!” She yelled back, her voice echoing through her rather empty apartment.

“At that hospital in London. I’ll take ya.” He said, she could hear the commotion in the background of his shop as he spoke.

“Okay. Please don’t make this worse than it is. You have a way of doing that.” She said harshly, hanging up the phone and grabbing another bottle of rum she’d stolen from work.

She took a long swig and sat in one of the chairs she’d bought, thinking about the man she just started seeing, hoping he’d be alright. The thoughts of all the worst-case scenarios running through her mind as she downed another sip, the large clock on the wall near her reading nearly 5pm. Her nerves were frazzled from all the moving and the waiting. Her eyes flickering from the phone to the clock every 5 minutes. Yet a loud honking noise soon ripped her from her thoughts as she saw it was her father. She knew he’d find her address eventually. Not knowing he’d find it that quick, unless he threatened her poor driver.

Despite their arguing, Alfie still opened the door for her to get in, silently driving them through the busy streets as she gazed out the window. Tears slowly falling down her cheeks as she watched the sky grow darker as they drove on.

“Look, I don’t know what will happen after they meet ya but make sure you have your gun on ya. You have it don’t you?” He asked after a long silence, his words the opposite of comforting.

“Always, dad.” She said, wiping her tears away.

“If they don’t decide to kill us for hiding ya all these years, they’ll probably try to because you were a risk to that Michael fellow. Beautiful girl such as yourself is always a risk.” He said.

“That why I don’t have a mum? You’re too scared of taking risks?” She remarked, not really caring anymore if the blinders knew of her or not.

“Nah, I think you know well enough that I’ve got a mean mug no one would take two glances at. Besides, me last love got killed. But life goes on I suppose.” He said, looking on as his lit cigar slowly burnt away.

“You’ll find someone. Maybe it’ll be a blinder lady.” She said with a smirk, finally feeling like they were back to their normal banter for a moment.

“If I do ever fall for one of them, do me a favor and dig my hole will ya?” He asked, chuckling.

“Sure will.” She said, her smile slowly fading as they neared the hospital.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I didn’t want it to make you angry...and didn’t want you to fight them.” She said.

“Love, we fight no matter the situation. If there’s ever a day I’m not yelling at Thomas fucking Shelby then assume that’s the day the world is ending.” He said, getting out of the car with his cane in hand.

As they walked in, they heard Esme crying and running out of the morgue, the blood still fresh on her hands as she ran out past them.

Thomas came out with a lit cigarette in his mouth, an angry-yet saddened look to his eyes.

“Alfie...why are you here aye? Just lost John. Now I’m waiting to hear if I lost Michael.” He said, not taking much notice to the younger girl near her large-framed father.

“I came here to check on the lad. Actually, she came here to check on him.” He said, motioning towards her.

Y/N nervously looked at the man, his blue eyes piercing hers as he examined her like a wolf stalking it’s prey.

“Aye well who are you Ms.? Some whore he fucked?” He asked bluntly.

“Well, actually mate...that’s my fucking daughter. Her names Y/N. Now...she’s actually a lovely woman and she wanted to be here for him cuz they’ve been dating for uh how long?” He asked turning to her.

“About a month so far.” She said crossing her arms and staring the rude gang leader down.

“As she said, about a month. They’ve been dating right under both our fucking noses now what do you think of that aye? Young love never ceases to amaze me I tell ya.” He said, a slightly crazed look in his eye as he towered over Thomas.

“How long have you had a daughter Alfie? You weren’t going to tell me aye?” He asked.

“My brain’s not what is used to be since ya shot me in the face, but uh I’d say ‘round 5 years now. Adopted her from that orphanage near Camden Town. What...you don’t think I’m good at hiding stuff? I’ve had her working in the shops and all that for years and ya never fucking knew.” He said, adjusting his tallit which was draped over his shoulders.

“And bruva, I never fucking told you because I knew one day she’d get hurt if she ever knew ya. And here we are.” He said, flicking his cigar on the ground and stomping it out. Thomas clenched his jaw and looked away, his eyes focusing back on the girl.

“How’d you meet Michael? It surely wasn’t when any of us were around.” Thomas asked, gesturing vaguely. Y/N took a deep breath before speaking, trying to think of the best response to the rude gang leader.

“It was when everyone was around. None of you had the sense to see it though. When you first came in I saw him as I snuck through the shop. We exchanged names, ya know, like what normal people do. And now we’re here of all fucking places.” She said, looking down the hall at the operating room.

“Did you know they were after him? Did he act suspicious?” He asked.

“Jesus christ, why am I being interrogated? You do business with my father not me.” She said.

“Anyone who knows my family is of my concern. That now includes you. He’s been seeing you whenever he’s not with us. What has he told you?” He asked.

“Nothing. He hasn’t really talked about anything. I just know he’s with you lot and that’s it. I swear.” She said, giving him an annoyed look. She wanted to run off, not liking the man within a few seconds of meeting him.

“Mr. Shelby?” A nurse asked from the hall, cutting the tension that filled the room.

“Yeah?” He asked, turning around to face the nurse.

“He’s out of surgery, you...and your guests can see him now.” She said, walking back to her desk.

“We’re your guests? It’s a fucking honor mate. Let’s go shall we?” Alfie asked, never ceasing to pull Thomas’ leg.

All three of them walked in, Michael lying there with his chest bandaged along with his arm where another bullet hit. His face pale and tired as he sat up.

“You made it another day Michael....would you like to tell me what exactly happened?” Thomas asked, his cousins eyes slowly resting on his.

“I did as you asked, warned John and Esme...then his mafia men pulled up in hay covered cars. I shoved Esme inside and John got his shotgun ready...” He said, wincing through breaths.

“Then they shot through him with machine guns. The bullets that hit him, hit me, and a few others flew by. That’s all I remember.” He said, not noticing Y/N in the room nor her father in the corner as his grogginess wore off.

“Alright, well I’ll leave you two be. Alfie let’s have a talk shall we?” He said, going outside to the waiting area. Alfie sighed and followed him, closing the door in the process.

“Y/N...?” He said, rubbing his eyes to see more clearly, thinking he was dreaming.

“Hey...” She said, sitting next to him and holding his hand which was cut up from hitting the ground so hard.

“I wasn’t expecting you to be here.” He said, wincing.

“Well, my dad and I kind of got in an argument earlier. He offered to take me to see you. I couldn’t sit in my new place thinking you were gone.” She said.

“Thank you for seeing me. I didn’t think I’d make it. I uh....I wanted to see you once more. Just to tell you things.” He said.

“What did you want to tell me? Now that you’ve made it I think there couldn’t be a better time.” She said smiling.

“I uh....” He started to say before he sucked in a sharp breath.

“I probably shouldn’t talk much right now but I can show you.” He said. A pained smile forming on his face.

“What are talking about-“ She began, feeling his hand caressing her cheek as he pulled her closer to him. Their lips softly connecting in a long kiss. Y/N’s heart beating rapidly as she deepened the kiss, being mindful of his injuries.

As they broke away, Michael smiled weakly as she felt her face heat up.

“I’ve been wanting to tell you that I wanted to go out...officially. If you’d want to. This just sort of got in the way though aye?” He said gesturing to the bandages.

She nodded and wiped a tear from her cheek as she clutched his hand once more.

“Yeah, I uhm...I would like that. Once you’re better though alright?” She said, her eyes serious despite the tears still falling. He reached up and wiped them away, her leaning her cheek into his palm as he did so.

“Speaking of that though, I had to tell my father and Thomas about us. I’m hoping they haven’t killed each other though.” She said, nervously looking towards the door.

“They can deal with that then, that’s not our concern. They can’t ruin everything.” He said, a slight smirk on his face.

“You sure? I mean can you see where we bloody are right now? If my father can cause your family so much stress I can only imagine what that deviled cousin of yours is planning for us.” She said, not knowing the extent the two hard-headed gang leaders would go to protect their families, even if it meant hurting the ones they loved.

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagines #peaky blinders fanfic #michael gray x female!reader #michael gray x reader #michael gray x y/n #michael gray #alfie solomons #katiesfics #alfie solomons x adopted daughter!reader

[radiorenjun]

I just rewatched crazy rich asians and a sudden scenario popped up in my head lol. Can you do a nct dream reaction to you coming from an insanely rich fam but you did not tell them after years of being together (like they thought you were poor) I really like your fics uwuu💗luv youuu🥺

God now this is making me want to watch Crazy Rich Asians. Anyways.

Mark Lee

You both have been dating since your first year in college. The day you told him you were the daughter of one of the most successful people in the country, his jaw dropped. I mean, considering how you live in a small apartment back when you two were in your early years of dating.

He remembers the day your mother decided to visit the two of you to meet Mark for the first time. Your mother was a very famous and inspiring talk show host and your father was the owner of a very well known hospital. You could barely hold back your laughter when you saw him practically try to scoop his jaw back up when he watched your mother walk out of a Tesla X car.

"You're (Y/M/N)'s daughter? One of the richest people in the industry?!" Mark exclaimed exasperatedly a few minutes after your mother left. Your mother had brought over fancy seafood with some rare caviar and 24k gold pieces sprinkled on top for dinner. 'I wanted to make a good first impression' she said with a casual shrug as you all sat at your dining table.

"Uh... I wouldn't consider myself rich, persay" you laughed. "Oh my god, you're the daughter of one of the most famous talk shows in the industry." Mark dramatically collapsed on the couch, his hand came up to cup his mouth dramatically as if he just found out you were secretly an alien disguised as Michael Jackson.

"Oh come on, it's not that of a big deal, Mark." you whined, sitting beside him and shaking his arm. "Chenle is probably richer than me," you added as you placed a peck on his cheek as he sighed. "I guess you're right."

"Can I ask you something, though?" he muttered, leaning his head against yours as you leaned against his shoulder. You hummed in response, moving your hand to play with his fingers. "Why didn't you tell me?" he asked in a small voice, a pout evident on his lips.

You pondered for a moment before shrugging, "I don't know, I wanted to tell you at first when we started dating but then I forgot bout it. I rarely call my parents since they're so busy," you smiled sheepishly at him.

"That explains the Rolex watch you gave me for Christmas," he uttered. "Okay, for the record, those were from my own savings!" you shot back defensively with a laugh, smacking his arm gently. "Oh so now you're bragging bout being rich," he teased.

Huang Renjun

You were both planned on going to a an art gallery date Renjun found on the internet for your two year anniversary. What you didn't know was that the gallery he was talking bout was actually one of your grandfather's art gallery. It was safe to say that the poor boy was practically trying to scoop his jaw back up when he saw the owner of the gallery he saw online giving you a big hug.

You were surprised his jaw was still intact with his face when you told him that the owner was your grandfather. He then remembered the time when you told him your grandfather really like to paint alot, hence your magnificent talent that landed you in a scholarship with one of the biggest art colleges in the country.

“So, your grandfather owns like, what, ten galleries all over the country?” Renjun gaped as you walked side by side down the halls filled with paintings after you introduced him to your grandfather. You shrugged sheepishly, staring up at one of the paintings, swinging your intertwined hands as you walked.”Does this mean you’re like rich? Crazy rich?” Renjun added.

“You’re blowing this out of proportion.” You chuckled, watching Renjun give you a blank stare. “I’m not! I’m just in shock that my girlfriend’s family are aristocrats and could end my life in a heartbeat!” he exclaimed, causing you to let out a soft laugh.

“I’m not necessarily rich like that. But I will inherit all this when my grandfather retires.” You shrugged. “Damn, I never thought I’d be dating a billionaire. This seems like an unexpected climax of a really weird movie” he muttered, running his thumb over your knuckles as you giggled.

“We’re not billionaires, you drama queen. Why does it matter to you anyways if my family’s kinda wealthy?” you raised your brow with a teasing grin, making your boyfriend let out a scoff. “It makes me seem like a peasant standing next to you, your highness,” he rolled his eyes in a sardonic tone. You laughed, smacking him lightly on his arm as you gave him a soft peck on his cheek.

“At least you’ll be my peasant.”

“That sounds like you bought me off of an auction for slavery. I didn’t know you were this kinky, Y/N.”

“Don’t make me dump you on our second anniversary in front of my grandfather, Huang.”

Lee Jeno

He really didn’t see this coming. One year and seven months ago, you seem like the average college student joining sororities to not spend as much money, like he did. You seemed like the average broke college student, spending your days eating cheap ramen from the supermarket, making chocolate truffles with a coffee maker and trying out those Buzzfeed videos where they make three full course meals using house hold items.

Hell, even your friends didn’t know bout this. Well, maybe they did. But nothing would prepare Lee Jeno the absolute shock he was bout to feel when he found out that you and your older sibling owned a really fancy five star hotel that seems only celebrities went to. Hell, you even had your own personal presidential suite and an infinity pool!

“How did you even get money to pay for all this?” Jeno gaped as he entered the room, putting his bag on the chair beside the door that looks as if it costed more than his own life. It probably did, though.”Uh...” you bit your lip as you heard a loud booming voice yell out your name.

“Baby sis!”

Jeno’s eyes were wide and filled with surprise as he saw someone who could’ve been mistaken as the president’s child come up and give you a big hug and a pinch on the cheeks. “Is this the Jeno you’ve been talking bout to mom and dad? Quite the charmer, I’d say,” your sibling grinned, as Jeno stretched his hand out and introduced himself, masking his confusion with a light smile.

Jeno politely asked who this person who had their arm slung over your shoulder and pinching your cheeks red, causing your sibling to laugh. “You really went all out with the broke college act to the point you just don’t mention your own family anymore, huh?” they laughed. Jeno was beyond astonished to find out that your parents were extremely loaded that they bought a really expensive hotel for vacation purposes just for you and your relatives to use.

Turns out you had a whole broke college student act to discover a new lifestyle out of the rich and easy one. Plus, you really liked interacting with people, hence why you joined a sorority. Jeno would eventually get over it after you explained everything, still baffled that his girlfriend had the money to pay child support for his great great grandchildren.

“Am I in heaven?” Jeno jokes as he ran his hand over his wet hair, watching you get into the tub with him, holding a fancy cup filled with wine. “Don’t get used to it, Lee. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity. Tomorrow it’ll be back to making poached salmon in a coffee maker.” You laughed, taking a sip of your wine as you snuggled closer to his chest.

“Good to know, nothing has changed. Despite having a girlfriend that could cover my future descendants expenses.”

“You’re really not letting this go, are you?”

“You can’t blame a man for overthinking. Oh god, the day I’ll be meeting your parents would probably be equivalent to meeting the King and Queen of England.”

Lee Donghyuck

Precious boy would be shocked but not that shocked. You get me?

He’s gonna act all dramatic at first, putting a hand on his chest how you just told him this big thing bout yourself after a year of dating. He found out through a really unexpected meetup with your parents, jaw gaping once he found out that both of your parents are rich ceo’s of really big insurance companies. 

Apparently, your parents decided to pick you up for a small vacation to Paris. Being the extras that they are, they made an extravagant dramatic entrance in your multimillion limo, offering Hyuck a ride home in the process. Lowkey the whole car ride was him just being so speechless that you, yourself was surprised to see your usually goofy and loud boyfriend so silent and speechless.

Low key he felt kinda insecure now that he’s met your parents. What if they don’t like him because they thought he wasn’t good enough to be a part of their family? Or rich enough to even be your boyfriend. Though the light conversation your mother had sparked up eased him, feeling relieved that at least your mom liked him, despite your dad being to busy with work to even spare him a glance instead of looking up from his laptop.

The next time you meet up was on a cafe date three days afterward. “I can’t believe I just met your richass parents.” was the first thing he said to you that day. You cackled at his horrified expression as he stares at you as if he had committed arson, chewing his muffin softly as he spoke.

“Relax you big baby, they like you already. They thought you were nice and polite, and quiet.” that last part sounds so wrong you instantly gulped down your milkshake. “If only they knew how much sorcery you have to make me still date you despite how you act like a worm on a heatstroke.” you shuddered.

He let out a sarcastic laugh in response, shoving what’s left in his pistachio muffin into your mouth to shut you up. You giggled, humming at the taste as your boyfriend chuckled.There was a brief moment of silence as you chewed the rest of his muffin before Donghyuck spoke up.

“I never thought my life would come to the day where I have a girlfriend who has a possible chance of being my Sugar Mommy.”

“LEE DONGHYUCK!”

Na Jaemin

He wouldn't be that surprised, really. Finding out that you’re the daughter of a famous k-drama director was quite unexpected considering he was the casted as the main character of this k-drama meaning he had to work harder to make your dad like him. He was beyond astonished to find you visiting the studio with your mother to celebrate your parent’s anniversary in a really expensive Korean Barbeque restaurant that seems even Lee Sooman couldn’t afford to get in.

After finding out Jaemin was THE Na Jaemin you were dating, your parents invited him to join you and your family for dinner. He was a nervous wreck in front of your parents. Not only they were successful and could get him kicked out of the role in a heartbeat if he didn’t make a good first impression, they were rich too. If he plans to marry you, he’s gonna have to be praying to God that this dinner goes smoothly.

Lowkey the thought of you being rich didn’t faze him that much but he was worried your parents might not approve of him considering he wasn’t as successful as they were. Of course, with the constant habit of bringing him up during family dinners that you had developed, they were quite happy to see such a sweet caring boy had the possibility of being their son-in-law.

Believe me, it was their words, not mine.

“MOM! You can’t say things like that!” you whined, burying your head in your hands as he giggled, his hold on your other hand tightening under the table. “What? You two are already in a committed relationship for fourteen months already, and you’re still in that honeymoon phase, unlike your father here who acts as if I was the bane of his existence.” your mother jokes.

“That’s because you are.” you father teased. “Jaemin is a nice boy, having him as a son in law would be great addition to the family.” he added as your face flushed red even more when you felt Jaemin squeeze your hand. Jaemin had a wide smile displayed on his face, his own cheeks flushed red at your parent’s words.

“Maybe one day,” he smiled to himself as he stared at your whole embarrassed being sitting in front of your millionaire parents.

Zhong Chenle

I need more Chenle gifs. Anyways

Most definitely will plan to buy the whole SM Entertainment with you to prevent mistreatment for his foreign hyungs and dongsaengs. Honestly it’s just gonna be so funny for him to find out that you were from a wealthy family as well. No wonder you could afford the latest Dior bag the moment it got released, and bought him the limited edition of the latest Kingdom Hearts game.

At some point of his life, he thought you were secretly stealing money from the bank or something. He found out when he visited your hometown for the first time for a Summer Tour. He didn’t think he’d be staying at a private mansion-like villa. Of course, you invited the other Dream members to stay over so their manager wouldn’t have to struggle with finding a super expensive hotel with high level security.

From then on, every special event is like a gift-giving competition to see either who bought the most items or the most expensive one to make the other feel guilty.

“No. You didn’t.” you gasped, glaring at your boyfriend who just grinned mischievously, despite the fact that he had bought so much stuff that he doesn’t even remember which gift that was. “I did,” he grinned proudly as he watched you pull out those aesthetic acrylic photos with a spotify link on the top from tiktok. “Dammit, you beat me to it.” you pouted, pulling a shopping bag from your side of gifts to pull out an acrylic stand of the two of you on your first date with your shared playlist link on spotify on it.

“That’s so sweet, y/n. I love it, even thought you practically lost this one.” he grinned cheekily. “Lost?” you raised your brows, questioningly. "Honestly, this feels more of a competition than an endearing moment to remember," you mused.

"Not my fault you spoiled me, it's only fair if I spoil you back." Chenle laughed. "What kind of girlfriend I would be if I didn't spoil my hard working boyfriend?" you grinned, letting out a small giggle afterwards as you pulled out another shopping bag from your side to give to your loving boyfriend.

"A rich one," Haechan muttered as he entered the room.

Park Jisung

The day he found out you were loaded was the day he finally got to sleepover at your house when he got a clear schedule. In your 8 months of dating, you two never got to hang out in your house as you both were too busy with your own things to even have a decent date without instant ramen and 6 other males involved.

He expected you to live in a normal minimalistic house. You've sent him hilarious pictures of yourself posing dramatically in your living room with the caption, 'paint me like one of your French girls' at the bottom. He knew you had some kind of minimalistic house with the beige couch and potted plants in the background.

But the picture on his phone was nothing compared to the reality of what your house actually looked like. He swore the entrance to your house was almost four times larger than his own size, and that's saying something. Poor boy was practically trying to scoop his jaw back up when he saw the gigantic chandelier hovering over the two of you in the living room.

"How are you not scared of being crushed by glorious diamonds every day?" was what he said when you dragged him to your room with his eyes lingering on the gigantic chandelier and your fingers wrapped around his wrist. You laughed, shrugging as you pulled him through the long hallway filled with gigantic frames of you and your family.

When he entered you bedroom, he practically dropped his dufflebag to the floor. "I brought my pillow for nothing then," Jisung gaped as he saw your king-sized bed that could fit three or possibly four people. "Are you sure you're not some aristocrat? You're basically living off of the We Boom era," Jisung chuckled incredulously as he watch you collapse on your bed.

"Excuse me, Mr. Idol At Thirteen. You're way more richer than I am," you giggled as Jisung walked over and slumped on the bed beside you, humming at the fluffiness of your freshly washed sheets. "That's clearly inaccurate, y/n. I feel offended you never told me that you're basically a billionaire," Jisung pouted jokingly.

You rolled your eyes, "shut up, Park. I live off of instant noodles and homemade omelettes, I'm no different from you." you booped Jisung's nose, causing him to scrunch up his face in an adorable manner. He looked up to see the paintings of baby angels on your ceiling, it was like some kind of museum.

"I bet you secretly have 60 credit cards in your wallet." he mumbled to himself, eyes still staring at you in disbelief as you gave him an incredulous expression. "Jisung. I'm not that rich, really." you deadpanned, "you saved me from going broke by refusing my offer to pay on dates." you joked.

Jisung laughed, "watch what you're saying, y/n. I don't think I'm ever paying for our dates ever again after this sleepover," he pointed a finger at you. You rolled your eyes, pushing his finger away from your face as you continued to bask in each others presence.

"Does this mean you're finally gonna let me pay though? I'm ordering pizza."

"Not happening, L/N."

A/n: IM SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG I PROCRASTINATE ALOT IM SORRY THIS WAS SO BAD I-

#nct x reader #nct dream #nct dream x reader #nct dream x you #nct #jaemin x reader #mark lee x you #mark lee x reader #nct mark lee #mark lee scenarios #jeno scenarios #jeno x reader #jaemin scenarios #zhong chenle #chenle x reader #chenle scenarios #zhong chenle scenarios #park jisung x reader #park jisung scenarios #jisung x reader #jisung scenarios #huang renjun x reader #huang renjun scenarios #haechan x reader #haechan scenarios #renjun x reader #renjun scenarios #donghyuck x reader #donghyuck scenarios

[clairewolf]

i would love to read a meta about your thoughts on possession horror theory since all the main characters are possessed at one point its something I haven't seen much discussion on but is super interesting since they all have such different relationships with possession!

okay this IS something i have been going off about at all times so i'd love to but be aware my thoughts on this are always super disjointed and incoherent (which is why i make video edits bc i feel like i can communicate them there clearer by connecting different clips from the show to express my point) AND this will be under the cut bc i talk about how possession -> sexual violence is like. the core premise of how possession works in spn

SO like to start with. possession in spn is pretty much inextricable from sexual violence, not just because of the act of possession itself but bc of how the show talks about it. with the case of meg and her 1.0 vessel, it's extremely blatant — in 4.02 she says "Seriously, I'm just a college girl. Sorry — was. I was walking home one night and got jumped by all this smoke. Next thing you know, I'm a prisoner..." and that is just word for word about the most textbook sexual assault scenario people think up. so that's there on a metaphorical level already, but there's also a literal level with meg actually sexually assaulting three different characters (sam in 1.16, jo in 2.14, dean in 5.02 — all while assaulting the vessel she's in at the same time), and demon deals being sealed with a kiss is also another way that manifests (and the horror in that is especially heightened in cases like bela's demon deal — she was A Child and making that deal to Escape Abuse At Home To Begin With — and mary's deal — azazel was literally possessing Her Father at the time)

then you have angels where their premise is that they can't occupy a vessel without their consent. like that's their Rule. but getting a "yes" means so little when you are going up against an angel like that. they can't technically lie to get your consent, but they can misrepresent the truth all they want. angels are all powerful and they can promise their vessels that they'll fix all of their problems. sam tells lucifer that he'll die before saying yes to him and lucifer says he can just resurrect him, there's no way to avoid him. i think a lot about what castiel must have said to claire to get her to agree to become his vessel — in my head he told her that if she agrees, he will bring jimmy home bc that is exactly the kind of thing a ten year old in her situation would agree to. and then castiel goes to jimmy and tells him. "it's time to go home now. your real home. you'll rest forever in the fields of the lord." and to cas that is… Keeping His Promises. but i'm sure claire internally was going I DIDN'T AGREE TO THAT. so angel consent is really just as flimsy as straight up demon possession, to me.

aaaand then of course you have the sam and gadreel plotline wherein sam is LITERALLY tricked into saying yes and kept locked away living fake realities in his brain when gadreel takes over and dean keeps lying to sam's face so sam doesn't find out the truth about what is happening in his own body etc etc. gadreel manipulated dean into it by lying about his own identity and lying about how long he would stay in sam and just generally lying about everything. it's obviously extremely loaded and horrifying for sam who already has so much body/possession trauma behind him at that point (lucifer, meg, that kid in swap meat, etc you get the picture!) AND struggling with perception of reality post-hell AND on top of that gadreel like. kills sam's friend. while wearing his body. so sam has that to deal with forever on top of all of these other retraumatizing sets of circumstance. [sam is also the victim of the MOST sexualized language when it comes to possession, eg lucifer is wearing you to the prom eg you're like that prom date that keeps turning me down eg a dozen other lucifer lines i don't expect you want me to repeat in this post]

with dean i think a lot of problems stem from the idea that he is Made for doing x thing. like he's made for being a hunter he's made for watching out for his brother he's daddy's blunt little instrument. he Could change and he's constantly taunted by all the ways that he could change but he won't, bc he thinks it's too late for him, or that bad things will happen if he does, or he's just not capable of changing for good. so then you get the angels telling him that he's Made to be michael's perfect vessel and taunting him with visions of how he will ruin the entire world and everything he cares about if he says no and that breaks him down like, pretty fucking fast. and he survives season 5 without saying yes to michael at the cost of sam jumping into the pit with lucifer which is obviously. everything he was most afraid of happening anyway. and then fast forward eight years and alt universe michael makes dean his vessel anyway so the theme of Inevitability is just always There he really was Made To Be This

and then cas is, as i was talking about earlier with @eurydicecas (hi i hope u do not mind the tag), the only one who has been on BOTH sides of this like cas possessed jimmy and then lucifer possessed cas and it's like — the show never really gives the proper attention to how cas feels about all of this, we know he says yes because he's suffering from chronic I Want To Feel Useful To The Winchesters (dean) disorder but the aftermath of that is really barely explored and it's just a huge missed opportunity. but we were also talking about how with angels and consent it's like angels aren't always cognizant of how much they stack the deck against their vessels to control their consent — they think that as long as they can promise their vessel goes to heaven and lives in eternal peace in the end, does it really matter whether they die at 30 or at 80? the preciousness of human life and their time on earth is just NOT something they understand, and most of them don't want to understand, but cas does learn that! he grows to love the world like a human would and even spend time as one and feel as one and THEN… be used as a vessel as one for lucifer. like. by that point it's NOT jimmy's body it is HIS body he feels a sense of pride in it he feels at home in it and then he spends all that time waiting in the bunker kitchen in his brain its just fhfkgsmd. insane.

anyway none of this is truly meta it's just me getting a ramble of thoughts out about this because it is something i am extremely passionate about and love to talk about but it's so hard to get my thoughts about it out in an organized way bc at the end of the day it all just makes me !! so !! insane !!

#ask #mine #people can feel free to add on to this or give their own thoughts i am truly just saying shit!!! but possession in spn is the only thing on #my brain right now.

[calpops]

falling facade | c.h.

part six: falling feelings

part one: falling flowers | part two: falling freedom | part three: falling fears | part four: falling failures | part five: falling fame

5k words

Copyright © 2020 calpops. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format (translations included).

<< >>

“What’s this?”

Calum’s attention swiftly turned from cleaning his house and getting it ready for his parents arrival to Arden. She stood in the kitchen, facing the fridge with a timid hand outreached to the door. He knew exactly what caught her attention and prompted the question. He bit back a smirk as he left the throw blanket he was folding in favor of sidling up to her, hip pressing into the cabinets and a nonchalant hand finding the cool marble of the countertops. Her fingers lingered on familiar paper and she turned to face him with a raised eyebrow.

“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten your own work,” Calum teased and let his smirk come back full force.

She let out a small giggle through her interrogation and shook her head. “Okay wise guy. Why is it on display on your fridge door?”

The paper placemat Arden had quickly drawn Calum in in red crayon and sharp lines laid under a magnet on the face of his fridge. He had fished it out of his wallet the night before, not having forgotten it in the folds but keeping it around in an attempt to remind himself of what was real. Their time at the diner was the first of many escapes. It was a comfort to know something honest and authentic stayed with him when he was forced to lie through his teeth; to fabricate stories during interviews, to pose for social media and paparazzi. It was of him and drawn by her in a moment that no one else got to share. It was theirs and theirs alone.

“Because I’m still waiting for a painting to put on the wall. I thought that’d be a good place holder and reminder,” he said and shot a pointed look at the blank living room wall; the empty space above the fireplace begging for life of lively colors and loose waves created by Arden’s hands. It was front and center. A place Calum would be able to see it from almost any position in the living area of his home. He continued in a teasing tone, “you should really get to it.”

Their conversation on the beach about the Clifford house hallway once being lined with Arden’s art only to be replaced by band accolades hadn’t escaped Calum. His request of a painting reminiscent of sunset on the beach wouldn’t go forgotten or be replaced. Arden nodded, the motion was slow and her gaze was indecisive, fingers abandoning the placemat to curl at her sides. A forced shrug lifted her shoulders.

“You know painting is just a hobby for me, right? They’re nothing special,” she said, her voice became meek and her eyes averted his gaze.

Calum was picking up on subtle queues. Her usual ability to hold eye contact faltered when anything about her life was in question. The strength of her words felt weak and weary as if there was a weight crushing her; taking away her usual eloquent articulation and animation. Calum eyed her for a moment, took a peek at the drawing on the fridge and turned back to her.

“Just a hobby,” he replied to the first half of her statement. “That you enjoy and are really good at.”

She smirked, finally looked directly at him once more and raised an eyebrow in challenge. “I also enjoy dancing while I clean and singing in the shower but I assure you I have no rhythm and am not the Clifford sibling blessed with vocal abilities. Sometimes we just do things; whether we’re good at them or not.”  

Calum didn’t know if he had the ability to challenge her further, to push her and make the strength in her voice falter again. So he changed the subject and took her mind away from replaced paintings and feelings of inadequacy and back to lighthearted teasing tones that lifted weight off the reality they were living. Just like moments in the car where their situation became a joke, Calum changed gears in hopes it would make her smile and quip back at him.

“So you won’t be singing at our wedding then,” he said with an over dramatic sigh and side eye; found that his plan rewarded him with a smile and a laugh.

“No, I’ll save that for you,” she replied and twisted the ring that Calum was becoming accustomed to seeing on her finger. The diamond was still much too gaudy and unlike her but it felt familiar and Calum was unable to picture her without it. “If you’re lucky maybe I’ll show you my dancing on our honeymoon.”

Now Calum’s cheeks were warm and tinting with a blush that spoke of the implications her words held; watched as she skipped away from him with a sarcastic laugh following her to the living room where she finished folding the abandoned throw blanket. Calum didn’t have a comeback or rebuttal though his thoughts were filled and alarm bells tried their best to ring through the haze. He shook himself, tried to blow those thoughts away and nearly jumped at the sudden knock on the door. For a moment he feared it was their parents arriving early, interrupting their plan to work out what details they would and would not share with them during their suspected inquisition. But he rationalized and realized it was Michael, he was to arrive early to be in on the details. He wasn’t sure if Michael’s arrival was better or worse.  

***

Calum’s arm found its way around Arden’s shoulder in an all too natural sense. It fit a little too perfectly, was a little too easy and normal. Eyes were on them, parents and siblings; eyes that questioned and eyes that knew but had inklings of wonder clouding them. Michael had agreed to keep up the charade though he made a point that he wouldn’t like it and they both owed him big time. Calum’s arm around Arden was all part of the act but Calum could tell Michael was pondering why it was so easy for them to pull off. He could also see the doubt in his sister’s frown and hoped the panic wasn’t so clearly written on his face. He knew he wasn’t standing with his usual confidence, posture a bit slumped and weight bearing into the cabinet behind him. But Arden eased into his side and loosely held his hand; helped to settle the nerves that simmered and sparked with their families arrival.

“What’s this?” His sister Mali asked, repeating Arden’s earlier words verbatim, touching the same place mat secured to the fridge in the same exact way.

A small grin captured the corners of Calum’s mouth. There were a lot of things he felt he wasn’t prepared to answer or could have thought out more, but Arden’s art wasn’t among them. He knew exactly what to say.

“Arden drew it. On our first date,” he offered and felt the shift of Arden moving to look up at him.

“First date?” She wondered aloud, eyes meeting and holding gazes as she arched her eyebrow in question and amusement.

“At the diner,” Calum began and blew out a breath, hand gliding down her arm as he got lost in the role; caught up in a new game where control really did land in their own hands. He offered truths veiled with something more and something less. He shifted his gaze back to Mali who was eyeing them both; sizing them and their story up. “She told me to sit still and hid it from me until it was done. I’m keeping it up until she gives me a real painting.”

Mali nodded but her eyes squinted and lips pursed for a moment. She took a few seconds to accept the truth and offer a smile before wandering off in search of Duke; past their parents congregated in the dining area. Calum let out a deep breath, all the nerves that felt on the edge of exploding calmed at his sister’s acceptance. Neither Calum or Arden moved from their position, his arm still held her close and her hand didn’t drop from its hold. If asked by Michael later it would be out of necessity. If Calum was honest with himself it’d be a source of comfort.

“Here I thought our first date was the wedding,” Arden whispered, nose twitching as she blushed a timid pink. She stayed quiet so no one else could hear her words but her eyes were wide and told Calum truths no one else would understand. “Your way we got engaged before we even started dating.”

She let out a small giggle and the sound was enough to collide with Calum’s nerves and make the slight alteration of the truth come to life and feel real. Maybe their first date was the wedding, maybe it was an escape in a run down diner, maybe it was a night under the stars during a dying party where inhibitions roamed free. Maybe they hadn’t been on a date at all. What Calum knew was whether the scenarios were real or fake there was something building within him that he couldn’t control or deny.

“We didn’t need to date before we got engaged,” Calum whispered back, eyes averting to the dining room for a split second to ensure their privacy. Their parents still lingered and made small talk; Michael did his best to act as the host. “It was love at first sight, right?”

Arden shook her head, tendrils of hair fell into her face that Calum felt comfortable enough to push back behind her ear this time. She bit her lip and pushed away from the counter their backs were pressed against; Calum worrying for a moment she was also pushing away from him, but she stayed under his arm and her hand firmly held his.

“I’ve known you most my life. I don’t think we fell in love when we were six.”

“Love at second first sight then,” he amended with a laugh; wondering if there might be some validity to that statement.

During their time in the face of the facade Calum often found himself thinking of the first night he had seen Arden again. The house party was ingrained in his memory and the subtleties of her under moonlight stayed with him in vivid flashes and familiar words. He hadn’t known it upon second first sight, not in that split second when their eyes met across the yard and she offered a recognized head nod, but it started to become apparent with backs pressed to the siding, drinks gone empty and pouty lips begging for a favor.

Calum let Arden lead him into the dining area where they were met with an unexpected outcome. Mali’s slight doubt and questioning was drowned out by the belief of their parents. The stories they fed them seemed to win them over; made them excited at the prospect of their children finding each other and falling in love. Though it was quick and unprecedented—with phone calls and circumstances that felt nothing short of suspicious—their parents were blinded by what they assumed was their children’s happiness. Happy. Proud. Excited. All of those words floated around them in a barrage of parental chatter. Calum felt the shift in Arden before he saw it; the way she stiffened against his side, her hold loosening on his hand and the shift of weight from one foot to the other and back again in a rhythmic sway of uncertainty. He wondered if it was anxiety, if the situation wasn’t okay, if there was underlying guilt brimming to the surface.

They made it through dinner, most of the time was spent in a haze that passed over Calum’s thoughts as he drifted from checking the rigid posture that captured Arden and the beaming smiles that their parents graced them with. Every intone of excitement, every near teary eyed admission of pride and pitch of happiness in their voices had Arden lurching. It was minimal and went past the others but Calum caught the subtleties; the slight twitch of her arm or the purse of her lips, the downcast gazes of shiny eyes. His own nerves had calmed but he worried for Arden. It was her want to keep up the charade but he had to wonder if her mind was changing and what that meant for the rest of the visit.

It wasn’t until after dinner when the dishes were done and everyone had split up into smaller groups that Calum sensed something was completely amiss. Arden was in the living room with Mali and her mom—he’d heard her voice just moments ago—but when he rounded the corner she was gone. Before he could ask, before he could even form the thought to ask, Mali was answering for him.

“She took Duke out,” Mali said as she stood and gestured to the sliding glass doors that lead to the backyard. Calum was quick to head over but his sister stopped him short with a low murmur and hand on his wrist. “I know management has a hand in this.”

Calum knew his surprise showed; jaw slackening and an air of disbelief leaving him at the unexpected cornering. Mali could read Calum like a book and they’d never been ones to keep secrets. She was a bit more comfortable reaching and pushing for answers than Calum was but knew when to let up. Her touch fell and she nodded out the door.

“But I know you’re doing what you think is best.”

Calum swallowed down a lump in his throat and exited the house with Mali’s parting words ringing through his mind. The yard was empty, the sun was setting low on the horizon and casting glimmering specks of light against the water in the pool. It reminded him of the sunset dancing along the beach. Of Arden in the water and his towel. Of moments that were too real to be part of the farce. She was nowhere in sight and the usual jingle of the tags on Duke's collar couldn’t be heard. He figured she must have gone to the front yard or up the street to give the old dog a good stretch and walk after dinner. He rounded the side of the house and stopped short. She sat in a familiar position; back pressed to the siding and face turned to the sky. Duke was settled in her lap and nosing his concern into her stomach. Her hands slowly pet him and Calum came to see the glint of a fallen tear tracking down her cheek.

“Arden,” he said her name softly, his own worries etched into his voice. He didn’t want to startle her but she turned to him quickly and wiped at the tear, tried to pretend it wasn’t there or that he hadn’t seen it. She was making to get up but Calum settled down beside her and she stilled. “What’s going on?”

She sighed and he heard the brokenness of her breath. The fracture between the inhale and exhale. “Pretending is just a lot harder than I thought.”

Calum’s chest tightened and his fingers curled into his palms at her response. Her voice was shaky and her hazel eyes were distant. He didn’t understand what she meant. It all seemed to be going well—their parents weren’t as probing as they thought they’d be, they weren’t disappointed in their rash decision or the way they painted the engagement; with glints of the truth and softened edges of drunken escapades.

“Why? They’re all okay with it. Happy even,” Calum offered in an attempt to soothe whatever was bothering her.

Pretending for their parents had been her idea; a request so as not to disappoint her parents with a drunken story and fake relationship. They curated pieces of the truth together and kept to their guns. It was working. But she was cracking and Calum didn’t know why.

“Did you hear them?” She asked and shook her head as Duke nuzzled in even closer, feeling her distress and wanting to offer comfort as well. “They said they’re happy… and proud. The only thing they can be proud of me for is something that’s not even real.”

Calum blanched at that statement. He felt the wind knock out of him and suddenly all the subtleties of Arden at the table began to make sense. It was his turn to shake his head, not able to grasp why she would feel that way. But the shine of her eyes and the bite of her lip spoke volumes of the sorrows she was feeling.

“They didn’t say that’s all they have to be proud of,” Calum reasoned, knowing her parents and the love and pride they had for both of their children and all of their accomplishments.

“I know,” she seemingly agreed and let out another breath. “But they didn’t say they were proud of anything else. Because there’s nothing else.”

“That’s not true,” Calum denied and knew he shouldn’t tell her her feelings were wrong or invalid but they sounded like intrusive thoughts and self doubt; something he’d struggled with himself and would’ve liked to have someone to put them into a new perspective. “You went to university, you travelled, made amazing art—there’s plenty more than us for them to be proud of.”

Arden didn’t say anything for a moment, content to take comfort in the affection Duke was showing her. Calum saw the wavering of her jaw and contemplation cut across her face. She took another few seconds to pull her thoughts together before turning to look him full on, familiar eye contact bringing her fully back to him. He preferred when their gazes didn’t break—liked the strength he could find in hazel even when the subject was delicate and breakable.

“Michael never told you why I really came to visit, did he?” She inquired and Calum realized he hadn’t even asked.

He was too caught up in getting to know her and playing the game that he forgot it all started with a visit. He forgot she had been dodgy in answering that first night at the party. He was sure there was more reasoning than missing Michael for her sudden appearance in a place she so vehemently avoided and seemingly despised.

“No,” Calum answered. “I didn’t ask either. I figured you’d tell me when you were ready.”

Her shoulders slumped as if the weight of the story was bearing down on her at the prospect of telling the truth. Eye contact was steady as she opened up and revealed pieces of her past Calum had only been left to wonder about.

“I was supposed to be figuring things out here. Trying to get my life together and make decisions. Michael was trying to help.”

Calum nodded his understanding. There was a time when he had decisions he needed to make too; two paths unwound at the same time and no right or wrong answer had seemingly been in sight. He’d done the same, sought out his family and then listened to what was inside of him. It took time and then it was sudden, the band was the path he followed and it was a choice he had never regretted. He wanted Arden to follow a path like that too, to wherever she was seeking and find whatever she wanted in life.

“I get it. I know how difficult that can be,” he said and watched as a look of disbelief cut across her features and settled in the way she stared blankly back at him.

“How would you know?” She asked and though the question may have seemed accusatory or like he could never understand, her tone verged on begging to know if he really did and how it was possible. “You had the band. Isn’t that what you always wanted? Didn’t you just… know?”

Calum let out a small and almost sarcastic laugh and quieted when he realized Arden was serious. He realized she didn’t know the choices he faced. They weren’t exactly close during their teenage years; the formation and come up of the band had divided their worlds even more so. It was hard to think of those times, after the weeks Calum had spent with her and all the bits and pieces of their pasts coming back it pained him to think they had been so close yet so very distant from each other for years.

“I had the band and I had football. I had to choose,” he explained and caught her attention as he noted the arch of her eyebrow and the stall of her hand petting Duke.

“But you had options,” she mumbled. “Either would have been something to be proud of.”

“Neither had that certainty, the band might not have succeeded, my football career could have burnt out before it really began. I had to make a choice and then I had to take a chance.”

A breeze passed between them as Arden contemplated his honesty. The situations weren’t carbon copies of each other but they were similar enough Calum felt empathy rattling his ribcage and putting a pang of pain through his heart. The crumple of her face and the stray tear she didn’t bother to brush away left Calum breathless and wanting to reach out. He was hyper aware of everything; their parents in the house, Michael, alarm bells ringing so clearly in his mind, but drowned them out in favor of following his initial instinct. The pad of his thumb was gentle across her cheek, she didn’t say anything, didn’t flinch or question the action. His hand and heart fell as she slightly pulled away and abandoned his gaze to stare up at the night sky. She shifted and settled, sighed once more and geared up to voice her thoughts and struggles by sinking into the comfort Duke provided.

“I wish I had something more solid, something I want. All I have is half a degree and no fucking idea what I want to do with my life. I dropped out of university and travelled to ‘find myself’ but really just ran away. I have nothing that I’m good at.”

Calum was about to interject and remind her of paintings that once hung in the hallway and a place mat posted on the fridge. Her hand finding its way to his knee stopped the words from coming out and he had to wonder if that was her intention. One breath and it was gone.

“At least, nothing that I’m so passionate about that I know it’s what I want,” she said in one fell swoop and surprised Calum. “I don’t have a dream that I'm chasing. If anything I’m only trying to move out of someone’s shadow and doing a bang up job of it. Now I’m caught behind two and stuck in lies that will never end. That’s nothing to be proud of.”

Calum’s throat tightened at the unexpected honesty and turn the night had taken. Only minutes before they were surrounded by family and mindless small talk—or so Calum thought. It was about the engagement and the band and in that moment Calum realized anything to do with Arden outside of their situation hadn’t been brought up. He couldn’t imagine feeling casted into the shadows. His heart ached for her and the struggles she felt she was facing alone.

“I’m sorry for asking you to pretend with our families,” she added, head shaking slightly. “That wasn’t fair. I should just toughen up and tell them the truth. And don’t worry, I’ll tell them it’s my fault and I asked you to go along with it. You shouldn’t have to take the fall for my lies.”

She made to move as if to get up but Calum was quick to stop her; just a light touch and slight shift stalling her intent and bringing them closer. Duke was in her arms but found his way to the ground and stalked off back into the house. A belated moment and skipped heart beat gathered courage for Calum and helped words come out that he had been thinking for weeks. Words that settled in the back of his throat and burned sugary sweet.

“What if it’s not all pretend?”

“What?” Arden was quick to respond and panic—the fear that captured her eyes was unsettling. “Calum, what do you mean?”

She was poised and waiting for his answer as his mind went into chaos. He wasn’t sure he was ready to face everything that came with his own truth but the words came out too soon to stop them. His thoughts were tangled now, fleeting visions of real moments dancing around his mind.

“That we’ve been real… with each other. All those moments away from it all. Those were real. Weren’t they?”

They were real to him—and so were the feelings that followed and defined those moments. The alarm bells rang in full force as she tilted her head and the minimal distance between them felt craterous and minuscule all at once. Peaches invaded his senses and the taste of sugar was just a breath away but it was blown away by approaching footsteps. Arden moved away on instinct and Calum wondered if alarm bells rang in her mind as well. She settled back on the grass just in time for Michael to round the corner and come into view with his arms crossed and a ghost of a smirk disappearing from his face. Calum and Arden both looked up at him in silence and waited for him to speak first.

“Everyone was wondering where you guys wandered off to,” he began and then shot a pointed look at his sister. “Mum and Joy are talking about wedding dresses. Told them I’d find you, they thought you wouldn’t want to miss it.”

“Right, thanks for the heads up,” Arden said around a sigh and began to stand.

She shot Calum a glance as Michael began to lead her back to the house. Calum was quick to get up and follow her into the conversation of possible bridal styles and centerpieces. Duke had found his way to his usual perch on the couch and perked up when Calum and Arden walked in. Calum took up Arden’s side as she broke into the discussion by clearing her throat to announce her presence. The mothers turned to look at her; eyes alight with wedding wonder and idle chit chat being broken.

“I don’t know how to say this,” Arden began and Calum’s stomach sank as he realized the truth was verging on her lips. His hand reached out for hers, in solidarity, to show that he would stand beside her no matter what she decided. They could weather the storm better together than stranded and alone.  “But Calum and I aren’t getting married.”

Instant regret flooded Arden’s eyes as the room fell silent and shock hung thick within the air. She tensed against his side and turned to look at him with a pleading expression that Calum could only interpret as reversing the statement and making the visible disappointment and heartache vanish from the room. He hoped it was what she wanted.

“Not yet, anyway. We rushed the engagement, clearly. We don’t want to rush the wedding too. We want to enjoy some time together without the pressure of planning. We’ll let you guys know when we’re ready for that,” Calum jumped in smoothly as he watched the panic disperse from Arden’s eyes and felt the appreciative squeeze of his hand—a signal and a thank you that reassured him his hope was correct.

Everyone simmered at his explanation; they called Arden’s statement complete theatrics and not a funny joke though they were laughing, Calum guessed it was more so in relief than in good jest. Michael was the only one who didn’t wear a reaction so clearly on his face, just an arch of a questioning eyebrow at the initial honesty of Arden he hadn’t been privy to. Calum knew some explaining to Michael was due—and that Mali wouldn’t be so easily satiated with the on the fly explanation he had come up with.

The rest of the evening went by in a blur of nerves that kept both Calum and Arden on their toes. They tried their bests to remember the odds and ends of what had already been said. Mali pulled Calum aside for a moment as the night was dying down and a bite of fear coursed through him as he knew her suspicions were sharp and came with merit.

“I still don’t know what’s really going on,” she began and offered a sympathetic smile that helped to calm his nerves. “But I can tell there’s something real there. Just be careful, okay? I don’t want to see either of you ending up hurt. Especially not by each other.”

Calum took her words for all they were worth but only slightly nodded to show he had been listening. He still couldn’t manage to give her the answers she was seeking but the nod acted as much more than a method to show he was listening. He understood. He confirmed. He agreed. The last thing he wanted was for this entire situation to end with hurting hearts.

The hole of lies and half truths they were falling into was being dug deeper and deeper; no landing was in sight. He swept the room as everyone prepared to leave or settle in for the night and his stare landed back on Arden who hadn’t peeled her eyes away from him since his saving moment. It took one look to realize that falling was okay, as long as it was with her. As long as it was real. Calum had started to speak his truth to her and now he could only hope that all of the falling feelings that consumed him were somewhere within her as well.

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[peakyxtommy]

Love Twice Gone - Michael Gray x Fem!Reader

Summary: Michael & you were together for two years living in New York City. You break up and he messages you out of the blue. You two go back to seeing the other, but life has other plans.

WC: 2.5K

Warnings: Angst, Sadness, Broken-Relationship

A/N: Based Around Sex With My Ex by Fletcher. Flashbacks are italicized.

Gif Credit: @navinee

I know it's been a couple months, yeah, we should meet up

I'll meet you downstairs at the Subway station

We don't gotta talk about us, how we messed it up

We could keep it light, just a conversation

No expectation

You couldn’t stop thinking about him. It’s been three months since he left back to London. You sat in your apartment still wondering if he thought about you. If he wondered what you were doing or if you were with someone new.

Sometimes you could sit on your balcony staring down at the flurry of people wondering about him. Was he safe or happy or if he moved on to someone new? You made little scenarios in your head of what life was like right now. The possibility of what if floating through. Wishing that this relationship hadn’t had to come to an end but the inevitable was you both knew the truth.

Sometimes the truth cuts deep. He tore you in ways you never knew was possible. You were patching up the mess until he messaged you out of the blue one day. Three months after the breakup. You were still bitter and hurt but you still loved him deep down. It was the simplicity of the three words that got you. Got your heart yearning and mind running again with a new lie that you would have to face later than sooner. How you wish it would’ve been sooner.

“I miss you”

The message that began the spiral you were still trying to climb yourself out of. It was three days later on a Friday night you found yourself walking off the same old train and up the familiar subways steps. When you reached the top of the stairs the coldness nipped at your warm skin as you made a right down the street. Walking to your bar, the bar that held too many memories, drunken confessions, and whispered secrets. You see him sitting outside on the bench, with his black beanie. Staring down at his phone but as soon as you cross the street your eyes meet. It feels like the first time all over again.

-

“Oi, you ruined my pants!” He screams as the burning cream liquid soaks his pants and shoes.

“I’m really sorry, but you were standing like a lost dog in the way! Some people have to get to work.” You huff with annoyance as you were running late to work.

“I’m lost, I’m trying to make my way to 34th Wall Street. Sorry to inconvenience you.” He speaks about to brush past you but you grab his arm.

“Wait.” “I work over there. Let me help you at least, I did spill my coffee on you.” He looks at you for a moment before nodding. You remain in silence as the next train approaches and he follows your lead, as you make your way to the first two seats you see in the corner. You let him have the window seat as you sit on the end. You remain silent the whole ride, only to speak to let him know when to get off the train.

“What company do you work for?” You ask as you both walk down the street.

“Shelby Limited Co. We just opened up here and are big in England.”

“Interesting, I saw some signs a couple of weeks ago. I work for the Wall Street Journal on 42nd Street.” You respond as you see you are almost to the destination.

“Well, here we are. I’m sorry about the coffee again.”

“Thank you so much for getting me here. Don’t worry about it.” He pauses. “I never got your name.”

“Y/N Y/L/N.”

“My name is Michael Gray. Maybe, I’ll see you around Y/N.”

“Maybe Mr. Gray.” You respond, walking down the block to get to your own job.

It was only a few weeks later when the two of you ran into each other. He asked you out on a date and took you to McConnel’s bar to grab drinks. You two end up hitting it off talking for hours and him making sure you got a taxi home.

-

“Hey Michael.” You wave as he stands, brown eyes meeting yours, lip curving upward into a small grin.

“Hey Y/N, you look good.” You could feel your face heat up at his compliment, feeling the butterflies rushing into your stomach.

“Thank you. Do you want to grab a drink?” He nods, as you walk to the door, with him holding it open for you. You both wave to the bar tenders and sit at your table. The table that held too many memories and broken promises.

You tried to push those thoughts to the side. You didn’t want to set yourself up to be broken by him again. To feel the piercing cut of pain that wallowed in your heart. You kept the conversation light and focused on things happening now. No discussion of the past or the future. Those things could only be buried so long before they made their way to the surface.

Just a one minute walk

And it's just two blocks

And three drinks later

You're back in my arms

His place wasn’t far from the bar. It was only two blocks away and the quickest walk but this time felt different. It felt like the time was moving by slowly and you were trying to catch up. You were presently aware of everything going on but your mind was still plagued by the past. By the harsh words yelled out in the middle of the night, the lies that sent you packing, and a morning of waking up alone.

In this moment your mind was like a blank slate. A state of comfort and familiarity taking over. The kiss that tasted of poison three months ago was now sweet honey on your lips. His touch set you on fire once again. As you found yourselves stumbling around in his apartment in the night, making your way back to the bedroom to undress, to feel his body above yours, you missed this. You missed him, his smell, his arms holding you like you were the most important thing in the world. There you were back under his spell again.

I just had sex with my ex in a New York apartment

Now I'm a mess, I'm obsessed

I'm right back where I started, broken-hearted

Every time you call me, I'll pick up again

Back into my feelings, back into your bed

The first time shouldn’t have happened but did. It should have been a one time thing. It didn’t take long for you to be waiting to hear from him again. Trying to downplay it into not being a big deal. It didn’t mean anything, but it did. You felt it.

A few days later he called and it happened again. Everything was smooth until after the third time, he never questioned you leaving before but asked you to stay. That’s exactly what you did.

Waking up the next morning in his Manhattan apartment and eating breakfast as if things were patched up, but it wasn’t. You two continued acting like things were fine. It was breaking you on the inside but you ignored it. Ignored it to be temporarily happy with the one that made you the happiest when you were together. Even though he broke you to shreds, it was like he was the one sewing you back together even for just a moment. A moment of bliss with him, to take the guilt and shame away later. It was only two months later when things changed.

Gotta catch my flight, but I want more time

Gimme one more night to be wrapped up in you

It was the worst news to happen at this time. The Stock Market crash. It made many changes and left so much apprehension among the people. You didn’t hear anything from him for three days after it happened, letting worry get the best of you.

He shows up on the fourth day, knocking hard on your door as you were cleaning around your apartment. You open the door to his stoic face and rushed presence. Before you even got a chance to sit and say a word of your own, he broke the news that started the fire that would end in ash.

“I’m leaving back to England in three days. I messed up.” He huffs, fingers pulling at his dark locks.

“How long have you known?” You say, feeling the room start to tilt.

“Found out three days ago. Company’s a mess and my family is angry.”

“Maybe you should go.”

“I can’t stop this from happening. You knew, from the start that this wasn’t going to work. We’ve been only kidding ourselves!” He drips with sarcasm and a small laugh.

“Leave now! I don’t want to see you again!” You scream, teeth biting hard into your bottom lip, as you point toward the door. He grabs his things and you slam the door loud behind him. Knowing he was right but you wanted him to be wrong.

And I know that I'm losing my mind

And it feels like I'm losing you twice

Is it worth the price?

What have I gotten into?

You felt like the world was spinning upside down again. You couldn’t catch a break or a breath. That your mind was betraying you. That it was waving all the red flags possible and you just ignored it. He wasn’t going to be yours. You were back to square one and drowning your sorrows with the bottle in hand. Hoping the liquor would ease your mind, ease the pain, and erase the hole in your heart.

What if you never met with him for that drink or never met him to begin with?

Why you still loved the person that gained every part of you possible but let it slip between their fingers like sand in the wind?

If it was all an illusion, was it ever meant to last, to be forever?

Maybe the idea of being with him fogged up your mind. Being with him all over again wasn’t as bad for the first time. She was never vulnerable with anyone before him, not even herself. He brought vulnerability out of her, that it scared her. It scared him too because he felt the same way. Two people being vulnerable and still learning the curvatures of life.

You wish you could feel the joy of your first meeting over again and freeze that moment in time. The encounter and all the happy moments that followed but you couldn’t. Time wasn’t on your side and neither was loving someone you had to let go.

I thought it'd be harmless

So we kiss goodnight and I catch that flight

Say goodbye forever until next time

There you laid bodies bare and tangled in the sheets, holding the other tight together. As if you moved an inch away, that you would disappear right in the other’s eyes. The evening was weirdly amazing and you could feel the sadness as well. It was the elephant in the room. His bags sat at the door waiting along with his favorite navy jacket and black boots. Dinner went smooth as you made your favorite meal which was pasta and strawberry shortcake for dessert that was your favorite together. You asked him questions about his family back at home and what he was excited to get back to. He asked about how you were going to visit your family and take a small vacation. Futures without the other around.

“Do you think it was worth it?” You whispered as you trace small circles on his warm chest. Head resting on his heart, hearing the thumping loudly in your ear. He sat with his face toward the ceiling, left folded behind his head, and the other wrapped around your back.

He laid there thinking about your question knowing the obvious answer. He loved you so much the first time around and was sad to lose it. He now got to love you a second time but in a different way than before and he was losing you twice, in two ways, but it all hurt the same, but even worse than before. He wouldn't change him, you, or the time for anything.

“Yes, I wouldn't change any of it. Would you?”

“No, I wouldn’t.” You respond wanting to say more. To tell him you love him even though you knew he still was leaving. Words to fall on deaf ears. In the worst circumstance.

“Remember when we were going to get an apartment with a rooftop. On the inside we were going to have a room for art and reading. Two bedrooms for our kids. Planned on tracking strolls in Central Park.” You whisper with a shyness but chuckle at the end thinking of the thoughts that plagued your mind when you two first met. You still wish for those things to happen for him, even if it wasn’t with you.

“Couldn’t forget, you even had their names picked out. We’ve spent so much time walking around this city and seen enough art to last us a lifetime. I won’t forget the way your skin sparkles under the sunlight and the way you feel right now in my arms.” He lips press against the crown of your head.

That’s how you go back and forth listing good memories of the past and laughing like you would have a future together. It would only last so long before the tightness welled in your chest and the cloud that disappeared came back again. You spoke the words in your heart, feeling the shreds come.

“I’m going to miss you. I’m mad about how you treated me before and that you’re leaving forever. I love you Michael and am glad to have gotten the chance to be loved by you. Remember me in your daydreams.” You whisper as your voice goes shrill, cracking, as the hot wet tears spill from your eyes. Hand coming to wipe them harshly away.

“I’m going to miss you too. I’m sorry. I love you (Y/N). Promise me you’ll take care of yourself.” His brown eyes stare into your wet ones. Foreheads touching, as you see him hold back his own tears, putting on a brave face.

“I promise.” You kiss him sweetly on the lips one last time. Then you kiss right above his eye, like you always did after the first time you told him you loved him. It was your way of saying it one last time, before he was no longer yours, not for just a first time, but a second.

The finality of it all as you drifted off to sleep. A peace falling over you, of your mind of the two of you together as one. One more dream of bliss before it all turned grey again. It was the best night of sleep you had in awhile.

When you woke up it was like a ghost visited you in the night. Every physical trace of him was gone like he was never next to you when you closed your eyes last. That morning you spent the day in bed crying over everything. Three months later you were still thinking of him and moving on. Only a year later were you met with someone new. A new adventure, with new memories, and new love.

It was the best of loves because you decided to let go of your last love.

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fanfic #michael gray #finn cole #michael gray x reader #michael gray imagine #michael grey x reader #michael grey imagine #michael grey #michael shelby

[utopians]

heya since youre one of the only scp fans i know, scp/tma au???? 👀 👀 except, jon and other avatars are the scps themselves instead of researchers or personnel (tho im thinking that martin, sasha and tim arent)

ALRIGHT at long last! here’s my thots. there’s a lot of stuff under the cut and it involves AWCY melanie and narrative anomaly gerry so it might be worth a read

jon is in containment! he’d essentially have his canon powers, and he’s considered euclid. his containment procedures include the exclusive use of physical locks bc he could just Know a password or keycode. additionally, interviews with him are conducted exclusively through D class who are given a list of questions to ask him so he can’t compel classified information out of an actual researcher

martin and sasha are researchers! they’re best friends in this au, and have weathered many a containment breach together after working at the same site for years. not!sasha still happens, but it’s because she’s taken and replaced through anomalous means by elias (who is the morally bankrupt site director in this scenario) because she got too close to unearthing his plans

Tim is initially an MTF operative that works closely with Martin and Sasha but defects and joins the GOC after a. the not-Sasha ordeal and b. his brother is taken in and killed by the Circus of the Disquieting. he just becomes increasingly jaded and angry and he loses his faith in the foundation to do the right thing or protect anyone

gertrude is a senior staff member a la Clef or Gears who’s both revered and resented for her merciless nature. she pretty much embodies ‘cold not cruel’ to its logical extreme. she became notorious after murdering a level 3 researcher and close personal assistant, michael shelley, to contain a reality-bending anomaly during a containment breach

unfortunately the same anomaly brought michael back and he attempted to kill her. he is currently in keter-class containment. she never visits him but sometimes she just stands behind the reinforced one-way glass and watches for a while

gerry is also in containment! he’s an anomaly a lot like scp-423, his soul was bound into an anomalous book and he now acts as a narrative entity who can move between different pieces of media. he’s considered euclid bc he’s a sentient being but is generally pretty cooperative and communicates a lot with martin and sasha to the point where he would consider them friends

elias is the corrupt site director at the site where martin and sasha work... he’s generally respected and liked but is exploiting the scips under his authority for personal gain and is specifically manipulating jon into giving him blackmail info that he’s using to work his way up through the foundation

peter lukas is the individual known as Nobody

basira is a science officer in the GOC who defects to the foundation after she sees the GOC’s methods firsthand and can’t deal with the ethical ramifications anymore. she essentially just packs up and leaves in the night without telling anyone. she wants to tell daisy, her long-term friend and partner, but is (rightfully) afraid that daisy’s loyalty to the GOC would make rat basira out 

daisy is a particularly ruthless GOC agent notorious for her involvement in the ichabod campaign, in which she and her team killed upwards of 150 type greens. she only gets more violent after basira’s disappearance, which she and the rest of the GOC mistakenly attributes to some kind of group of interest-involved killing or kidnapping

daisy ends up in foundation custody after a raid gone wrong and is confronted by the miraculously not-dead basira, which is when she begins to question the GOC

melanie is an anartist specializing in video-based anomalies... she meets georgie at an underground awcy gathering and the two start dating. although she started as Just an anartist, she becomes increasingly militant against groups like the foundation and GOC and gets taken into foundation custody after creating an anomaly specifically to fuck with them

georgie and jon were very close friends when jon was snatched up by the foundation, and georgie ended up getting heavily into anomalous stuff afterwards, getting involved with various minor anomalous groups (spent a while on the parawatch forums and the like) for a while before ultimately getting involved with the anart scene, where she met melanie. however it’s pretty much just means to an end, she’s ultimately just looking for any way that she could theoretically break jon out or just find him again and getting involved in anomalous stuff is the clearest path to that she can see. when melanie gets taken as well this gets thrown into overdrive and it essentially becomes her driving purpose

martin eventually deserts the foundation and he and jon escape to the wanderer’s library. they join the serpent’s hand and are fugitives happily ever after

Annabelle Cain Type Green Reality Bender no need to elaborate there

anyway that’s a lot of text. kudos to you for getting this far!

#tma #scp #oh lord this got long #the magnus archives #asked and answered

[pastelwitchling]

I know that many fans are very hopeful for s3 because Cam left but I'm having a hard time being positive, I'm honestly afraid of what they are going to do with the season...there are many things that I would love (I need) to happen but I know that they are not going to do it (like having M*ria actually apologising to Alex and him being honest and saying that he was hurt instead of saying that everything is fine; Michael saying that he regrets dating her and many things like that)

Look, I’m going to be honest; I don’t think any of that stuff is going to happen either. I don’t think M*ria’s going to be called out or face any kind of repercussion for what she’s done (because strong women these days means flawless women who never face the consequences of their actions or words). I don’t think Alex is going to call Michael out for choosing someone else. I have hope that Michael might confess to him and M*ria being a monumental mistake, but I doubt it.

Not to add to the misery here, but just the other day, I cried my eyes out at the thought of 2x06, and everything They-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had done. I have to actively avoid thinking about that cursed episode and relationship.

But here’s the thing. There will always be fanfics to fix things or make things better. There were always be people who can collectively rant until our lungs ache, and then move on and try to enjoy the positives. And either way, we’ll have Alex, you know? We’ll have Malex to some capacity. We’ll have Tyler and Vlamis.

There’s also this to keep in mind; CAM wasn’t just a nightmare to have as showrunner because of her terrible storylines. The way she treated us as fans is what makes it so much worse. I am not at all under the belief that a writer should write what fans want to happen. To me, that’s no different from selling out. So, crap storylines aside, CAM blatantly lied about scenes. She dismissed our feelings as childish or icky or babying Alex. She told us how we were supposed to feel. I am well aware that there are entitled fans out there who act like the showrunners and writers owe them something, and with those people, I could never agree, but I’m talking about all the scenes she explained in tweets because the story never did, I’m talking about character motivations or narrations that she tried to put into existence just by stating them on twitter, even when proof of the exact opposite was outwardly said in the show. I’m talking about, frankly, poor writing.

I’m not going to say CAM didn’t have her moments of brilliance, she certainly did. And credit where credit is due. But she’s not a showrunner. She can’t handle critique, she can’t take people not liking certain characters and storylines. Every negative opinion is a personal insult to her, and that proves that she wasn’t ready for that kind of job. These are all issues I feel could be mended in the future, or maybe even still utilized in teen dramas, just not an alien show centering around adults.

And I’m also not saying that Chris is going to magically fix everything that’s wrong, or somehow undo all the damage CAM has done. But I do think, and hope, that he is someone who will look at the story and characters and ask the questions all writers should ask themselves during a story, questions I sincerely doubt CAM ever asked herself; Does this make sense for the character? Does this make sense for the story? Will this cheapen this relationship/that moment? What would actually happen in this scenario? Will this degrade/villainize the character? Does this have the impact I hope/imagine it will? Does this hit as strongly as I hope/imagine it does?

All questions to consider. And now, with Chris, we can hope that he will actually consider them and learn to listen to the writers around him as oppose to just doing whatever he wants regardless of what it destroys.

#ask rin #roswell new mexico #roswell new mexico s3 #anti miluca #anti maria deluca

[ieattaperecorders]

Something’s Different About You Lately - Chapter 5: Gentle, Cheerful Lies

Some doors are opened. Others are shut.

Read on Ao3

Jon stood outside the gate, checking the address against what he’d written down. This was it. He was in the right place.

He looked at his phone . . . he was early, but not too early. He’d expected her to be there before him, and as he waited he tried not to run through all of the possible ways this might go wrong. She could have checked his background and realized something was off. The agency could have decided to send a different person. Worst of all, he might have simply remembered the dates incorrectly and come too late to intervene.

His attention was so centered on trying not to think about these things that he didn’t notice the car until it was halfway into the driveway. There was a moment of shock as the driver exited, giving a polite little wave in his direction. Jon had grown used to seeing that face twisted subtly, with features that swam whenever you tried to focus on them. She seemed so solid now, so real, and it was oddly disorienting. He found himself wondering if there was such a thing as a reverse of the uncanny valley effect, the distress of seeing something that no longer looks wrong.

She’s a person, you ass, Jon thought to himself. And you’re staring at her. Say something.

“Ms. Richardson?” he asked, as if he was uncertain.

“That’s me,” Helen called as she approached. “And you must be - - forgive me, I’ve done five other viewings today, just need a moment to remember . . .” she glanced down at her clipboard. “Jonathan . . . er, Smith?”

“Go ahead and make a joke,” Jon smiled as best he could. “You won’t be the first.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it," she smiled back, crisp and professional. Her smile was not wider than her face, and it showed an ordinary number of teeth. "Shall we take a look inside, then?”

“Yes, ah,” he nodded. “Let’s do that.”

The house on Saint Albans avenue was big enough for a family of five, and if Jon had actually been looking to move anywhere it would have been astronomically out of his price range. He’d worn his best shoes. Hopefully he appeared more financially stable than he was.

“Is it just you today?” Helen asked casually as they walked across the entryway, her heels echoing against the hardwood.

“Er, yes. Just looking for myself.”

“Just curious,” she replied, though he suspected she was trying to size him up, “I’ve mostly been showing this property to families, or young couples planning to start one. It’s a lot of space for one person.”

“. . . I think I’m going to need a lot of space,” he said distractedly, eyes sweeping the walls of the room as if contemplating its size. He was actually looking for anything out of place, unnatural. Distorted. “I, ah . . . entertain frequently.”

“Right . . . well, in that case, you couldn’t do much better than this layout. The living room flows right into the kitchen, and beyond that is an entry to the outdoor patio . . . .”

Jon nodded and followed her from room to room, doing his best to pretend interest in the hardwood floors and the amount of closet space. He spent a particularly long moment in the second story hallway, silently counting and re-counting the doors, finding their number frustratingly consistent. Before long the two of them had returned to the front of the house, tour finished.

Now what, genius? he thought.

He’d been given months to prepare for this, and despite running through a thousand scenarios in his mind the only real plan he’d managed to settle on had been “find Helen.” He'd hoped that if Michael already had an interest in her, his presence would be enough to prompt it to appear. Wishful thinking, probably. But the Distortion was by nature unpredictable, and any scheme that had depended on guessing its movements would have fallen apart all the same, leaving him with no plan at all.

Then again, ‘left with no plan at all’ was where he found himself now. He tried to focus on what Helen was saying.

“If you’re interested in putting in an offer,” she continued, “the office is just down the street. You’re more than welcome to take some time to consider, of course, but I wouldn’t advise waiting long. Confidentially, there are a few other buyers who’ve taken an interest, and if you want to act while it’s still on the market it would probably be wisest to put something in today.”

“That’s a lie, isn’t it?” Jon didn’t speak with anger or reproach, only the pleasant surprise of realization. His search for Helen had led him across a few articles on less-honest tactics that home buyers should watch for. “I’ve heard about that. It’s to press someone into making a decision, get rid of time-wasters, right?”

It was hard not to frame a thing like that against what was going to happen to her. Did it mean anything? There were so many people who, in the course of their job, were expected to gently and cheerfully lie to people. Push false claims, press on anxieties, exaggerate things. Day after day, twisting a thousand tiny falsehoods into their interactions with people, until no longer felt like lying at all. Did that feed Es Mentiras all on its own?

Oh. Helen was staring at him now, and her mouth was a hard line. Perhaps saying that out loud had been a bad idea.

“Ah, sorry. Forget I said that, please.” Jon took a deep breath. He’d run out of pretense and wouldn’t have much time before she shooed him out. It was now or never. “Tell me, have you ever noticed anything unusual happening in this place?”

“Unusual?” Helen looked uncertain for a moment. Then realization struck, and she looked like she might be disappointed. “Ah. You mean . . . ghost stories? Hauntings, things like that?”

“Sort of? Not exactly,” Jon said. “Look, I’m from the Magnus Institute. . . .”

“Ah. Yes. I’ve heard of that one,” the disappointment that had been threatening a moment ago now fell thunderously across her face, as she realized she’d been wasting her time.

“Yes, well, ah, I know it has a reputation - ”

“As much as I’d love to discuss the many, many unlikely haunted house stories I’ve heard in my career, Mr. Smith, I have other viewings today,” her voice was polite, falsely pleasant and sincerely firm as she crossed past him to open the front door. “If you’re interested in making an offer on this property, you have my card, but for now I really have to ask you to - -”

“You’re in danger.” Jon blurted out.

Helen’s hand hesitated just over the doorknob, and she glanced back at him. She looked wary, though Jon suspected he’d only succeeded in making her wary of him. He kept talking, speaking quickly, afraid if he paused she’d resume throwing him out.

“Someone is going to come after you. Someone dangerous. There’s a - a being that calls itself Michael, it might be stalking you already. Look, you don’t have to believe me now,” he held up his hands, “you can think I’m absolutely unhinged now. But if a strange man with straw-colored hair who laughs like a headache shows up at a home you’re selling – I - I don’t know. Try to get away from him if you can? And don’t open any doors that shouldn’t be there. He can trap you behind the doors.”

Helen stared at him. Jon lowered his hands and sighed.

“Really,” he said, “you should quit real estate all together. But I doubt you’re going to do that because a total stranger came by and started raving about doors and monsters. Just remember what I said, if he shows up?”

“. . . Right. Will do.” Helen’s voice was tight. She opened the door - a normal door, one that opened only to the house’s exterior - and gestured for him to walk through. “Good afternoon, Mr. Smith.”

Jon wasn’t sure he’d helped at all, and he feared he might have blurted out too much if any eyes happened to be on him. But trying to push it further would probably make things worse, he ought to just leave before she decided to call the police on him. Resignedly, he walked out onto the porch.

“Straw-blond hair,” he added. “In ringlets, and the door will be yellow.”

“Understood,” she smiled insincerely, eager to move him along. “Thank you for the warning.”

Jon didn’t look back to see whether Helen returned to her car after he left, or just shut herself in a house she didn’t own until he was out of sight. He stuck his hands in his pockets and began the long walk back to the bus stop.

* * *

It was almost a month later when he heard her voice again. Not the bright sales tone that she’d had before or the uncanny echo he’d grown used to. It was shaky, unsteady, with an edge of desperation that was audible even muffled through his office door.

“- -sent me down here,” she said, “I know he works here, I know it. His name is - is Jonathan Smith. Or at least he said that it was - -”

“There is a Jon here,” that was Sasha. “Are you sure that it was ‘Smith’ he said? Not ‘Sims?’”

“If you want to sit down for a moment -” Martin’s voice, it sounded concerned. “We can go talk to him. And maybe you ought to sit down either way . . . .”

He stood and opened the door to his office, looking out. Helen was standing there, disheveled, clutching the back of a chair like it was all that was holding her up. Sasha and Martin hovered around her while Tim stood at the back wall, looking as though he was considering whether to physically insert himself into the situation. When she saw Jon, Helen’s eyes widened and she pointed in his direction.

“There. That’s him. It’s you?” Her voice began as confident, almost accusatory, but by the end it curved into uncertainty. As if hoping he would confirm that he’d met her before.

“It’s me,” he agreed, nodding. He glanced at the others. “Thank you, Martin, Sasha. I can speak to Ms. Richardson in my office.”

Helen nodded. She took a deep breath and straightened her blazer, trying to regain some sense of composure as she walked. Jon stepped aside to let her in. The second the door to his office closed she turned to face him, not bothering to sit down.

“How did you know?” she whispered, deep creases forming in her brow. “How did you know it would be there?”

Elias is watching, Jon thought.

“It’s a long story,” he said carefully. “One of my staff had a run-in with this 'Michael.' I’ve been trying to see what I can learn and, ah, my - - my research led me to think he might come after you. I take it he showed up?”

She nodded. “Yes.”

“Did you . . . ” Jon took a deep breath, fearful of the answer that he already knew, “go through the door?”

Helen’s face fell, and that told Jon all he needed. There was a sinking feeling in his stomach as she continued.

“I didn’t intend to. When he showed up I remembered what you had said about a man with straw blonde ringlets. I didn’t believe you, of course, can you blame me? But I did remember. And there was something off about him, something unsettling. I told myself I’d let you get inside my head, I was only startled since he matched your description. That plenty of people have blond, curly hair, and I was being irrational. But then he spoke, and his voice,” her breathing slowed, her speech grew calmer and more rhythmic, though the fear didn’t leave her eyes, “it reminded me of having fevers as a child, of trying to fall asleep with my head swimming and- -”

“Don’t!” Jon said, a little too loudly.

Helen was startled into silence, the statement that had been spilling out of her cut off.

“Don’t tell me. Please,” he crossed over to his desk and took out a form and a pen, placing them in front of her. “Write it down.”

She seemed confused, but nodded and sat, picking up the pen. Jon supposed that he’d already given her one bizarre, panicked warning that had turned out to be true, perhaps he’d gained some credit with her. She wrote and he stood anxiously nearby, the irregular scratch of pen on paper the only sound in the room.

Elias was watching. His attention was always a possibility, the paranoia of knowing you might be watched no less maddening than constant and certain surveillance. But Helen would have caught his attention, and Jon didn’t doubt that his eyes were on them now.

He wasn’t sure how much Elias Knew. Not everything, certainly. If he’d known everything he’d have made an attempt on Jon’s life by now. While he lived he was both a needed component to the ritual and a threat to it, and Elias couldn’t possibly allow that. It seemed, then, that he still had some secrets. But Jon knew he wasn’t hiding his contempt for the man well, and the steps he’d been taking to stay human had become a silent point of contention between them.

When Elias noted that he’d stopped recording statements, Jon had spent an afternoon reading out a stack of nonsense and conspiracy theory that went straight into the computer. After a few weeks of that, Elias began directing him to specific statements, real statements, marking them as higher priority. Jon lied about recording them, claiming the audio files were corrupted and unusable. When Elias suggested the tape recorder that he’d been using before, Jon said it was broken. Which it was. Most things become broken when you hit them with a hammer.

It was a strange sort of fencing match that neither would acknowledge they were having.

A week ago, Elias had walked into Jon’s office and placed a folder on his desk. He’d told Jon to make a recording with him in the room, so that he could get a better idea of what the problem was. There’d been nothing hostile in his manner, he maintained a smiling, genial, let’s-work-this-out-together tone. But it couldn’t have been more aggressive if he’d walked in with a gun.

No unnatural hunger had pulled Jon towards the statement, that wasn’t there yet. But still, part of him had wanted to give in. Something in the back of his mind whispered that he could do it just once, just to satisfy Elias, get him off his back for a while. That he needed to or this would keep escalating. That it would be a while before the dreams began, before things would get truly bad. That he’d have to give in sooner or later.

He’d slid the folder across the desk, and spoken in a tight, controlled voice.

You know, he’d said, I’ve been thinking lately that I may not have been the right choice for this position. If you’re so unsatisfied with my job performance, maybe you should just fire me.

It had felt like a dare. He wasn’t sure what the dare was, since firing him wasn’t possible. Maybe he just hoped Elias would drop the pretense. Admit his reasons for wanting Jon to read statements out loud - to a recorder, a computer, an empty room if necessary - had nothing to do with document preservation. One of them would have to blink first.

It wouldn’t be Elias, though. He’d sighed and told Jon not to be so dramatic, that this was only a technical issue after all, and Jon’s overall work had been adequate. He said that perhaps he’d been micromanaging too much, that he would try to be more hands-off in the future. That he was sure Jon would figure out something on his own.

As Elias turned towards the door, Jon had been just foolish enough to feel victorious. Then he paused in the doorframe, smiling with knowing satisfaction.

Don’t worry, Jon, he’d said. I have every confidence that you were the right choice for this. You’ll take to it in time.

Jon had kept silent at that, sure if he said anything he’d say something he’d regret.

If not, Elias had added, pulling the door shut, I’m sure that one of your assistants would be up to the task.

And there it was. The threat that he’d been waiting for.

Jon glanced over Helen’s shoulder. She’d scribbled a maze of overlapping lines at the top of the page - a frustrated attempt to map out the impossible architecture of the Distortion’s hallways. He blinked, feeling ill, and turned away.

When he had the full powers of the Archivist, Jon had pierced the Unknowing and navigated the Lonely. Now he was so human that he couldn’t look directly at Helen’s drawings without his head swimming and his eyes going glassy. How was he going to stop Elias when he couldn’t See him coming? What did he think that he could do for Helen, already claimed by the Spiral? Did he really believe he had a chance of keeping anyone safe when he was so thoroughly defenseless?

It worries me, said a voice in Jon’s memory, when you do the whole ‘curse this flesh prison’ thing.

This was what he wanted, wasn’t it? To stay human? To keep himself as free of the Beholding’s power as possible? It was what he needed to do, or everything else would be forfeit. Being human meant being helpless. It meant being toyed with and taken apart by the uncaring world. There was nothing for him to do but accept that, and try to stay alive.

The pen stopped moving. Helen cleared her throat. “I’ve finished."

Jon picked up the small stack of paper from the desk in front of her. He had to read it, if only to find out what was different this time. Maybe there was something in her story that could help her. Maybe he could bring some insight to it.

The beginning was as she’d already described. Michael came to the house on Saint Albans avenue, and she dismissed her own wariness as a sign that she’d let Jon get to her. At least, until the door appeared.

For some reason, it was the color that scared me the most, she wrote. That you’d specified a yellow door. As if a blue or brown or white door appearing there would have been any less impossible, as if that one detail being wrong would have meant anything at all. I suppose it was something to grab onto, though, because it gave me the certainty I needed.

The man was standing between me and the stairs, which were the only way down to the first floor. Getting there would have meant pushing past him and I wasn’t sure what would happen if I tried, so I turned and walked into the master bedroom. Didn’t say anything, didn’t answer his question, just left. There was a tree that grew close to the window, and it was sturdy enough to climb down. No easy task in heels and nylons, but I managed. The man didn’t try to follow me. For all I know he just stayed in the hallway, perfectly still, where I left him.

I didn’t bother to cancel my other viewings, just got into my car and drove. I wanted to get home, to a place that felt safe and normal where I could gather my thoughts. But when I got to my apartment, the door, well, it wasn’t mine anymore. I’m on the fourth floor, apartment B. 4A was there. 4C was there. But between them was that dark yellow door with the matte black handle.

I didn’t know what to do. Obviously I wasn’t going to open it, but there was no other place where the real door, my door could have been. After pacing back and forth for a while and trying to get my hands to stop shaking, I called a friend who lived outside the city and arranged to stay the night with her. But when I reached her house . . . well, it was there too. It was the front door, and the back door. I didn’t dare knock.

I’ll spare you the repetitiveness of the next few hours – finding it waiting for me wherever I went, being dragged screaming from a hotel after looking down the hallway and seeing rows of identical yellow doors. I slept in my car, and the next morning I went back to the house on Saint Albans. I wasn’t sure what I was hoping to find, really. I just knew that if I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life out of doors I’d have to find some way to resolve this.

I kept seeing it in my peripheral vision as I drove. It was on every single building, except one. The house where it had all started. You’ve seen the front door there - it’s a very distinctive bright blue, isn’t it? I can’t tell you how friendly that color looked as I approached. In hindsight, I should have realized it could only be a trap.

She had opened what she believed was the front door to the house on Saint Albans avenue and found herself trapped in a maze of endless corridors. From there the statement became depressingly familiar - wandering, fleeing from a distorted figure, finally being found on the street and taken to the hospital.

“Er . . . yes,” Helen looked at him oddly. “That’s pretty much what happened.”

Jon blinked, feeling dazed, and only then realized he’d been reading the statement out loud. That . . . wasn’t a good sign. But probably nothing he could deal with at that moment.

“Have you seen it since then,” he asked, “the door, or the man for that matter?”

“No. I’ve mostly stayed in my apartment for the last few days.”

Helen’s thin fingers fidgeted in her lap, knitting themselves together. The thing that took her and later became her retained that habit, but its hands moved in ways best not considered for long. Was there anything he could even do for her now? He’d tried to warn her and it had changed nothing but details. Even if she escaped his office unscathed, Michael could find her anywhere. He'd come for her eventually, someplace where Jon couldn't intervene.

Dekkar’s description of Bernadette Delcour as having ‘the look of an unfinished meal' came back to him, and he felt something fierce and stubborn rise. There had to be something. He knew so much that he hadn’t known the first time, somewhere in his brain there had to be something useful. Maybe if she wasn’t afraid . . . people who survive an encounter with acceptance and calm tend to do better. But fear isn’t something you can start and stop at will.

“I’m glad you managed to escape,” he tried.

“Yes. So am I, I suppose. But, look, you know about this sort of thing. This is what you study here, isn’t it?” She looked at him, “what do I do now?”

It hurt to see that look on her face – tired, strained and pleading. It was the look she’d worn the first time he’d met her, when she came in desperate for someone to believe her. Hoping someone else would hear her story, know what she had been through. She couldn’t have made a worse choice in where to tell it.

“Move on with your life,” he said after a moment, “and maybe consider a change of career.”

“That’s all?”

“You could switch to an open-plan apartment?”

She laughed at that, sharp and with release. “More or less have one already. I took all the doors off by the hinges as soon as I got home.”

“I think I’d have done the same.” He smiled weakly. “You’ve had a brush with something unnatural, and you’re still here. That’s not something a lot of people can claim. The best advice I can give you is to try and get back to normal. And maybe stay with a friend . . . being alone, obsessing over it, you’ll end up-” he was not going to say spiraling, “- end up tormenting yourself. Better to let it fade, until it’s just another bad memory.”

She was quiet for a while, then nodded slowly. “It was real, wasn’t it?”

“It was,” he said. “All of it was real.”

She took in a slow breath and stood, straightening her clothes, gaining back a sliver of the closed-off, professional demeanor he had seen in her a month prior.

“Well. Then I’ll - -” she sighed. “Suppose I’ll take your advice. Do my best to move on - -”

A tug of panic hit Jon as she turned to leave, and his hand shot out to grab her.

She jumped, turning back to him with surprise. Of course she was surprised. He was grabbing her arm.

“Sorry,” he said. He looked at his own hand and frowned. He should let her go. He didn’t let her go. “Sorry, I, ah . . . .”

Why was he grabbing her arm? He – he shouldn’t be doing that. It was entirely inappropriate. But there was a reason, something important. Something he remembered happening. Or didn’t remember happening. Or didn’t remember not happening? Helen’s confusion was turning to alarm, and he knew, he really knew he should let go. But why did he feel certain that if he let her go she'd slip through his fingers and dissolve?

He looked down at the piece of paper in his hand, hoping it might have an answer. His eyes settled on one word, and it fell into place.

“Ms. Richardson,” he said, voice low, eyes on the opposite wall. “What color was the door in your statement?”

Helen followed his gaze to the office door and gasped, as if only now seeing what she’d been reaching for. She took a step backwards.

“No. . . oh, God, please . . . .”

His office had one door. It had always had one door. The wall they were facing now had two, both painted the same dark yellow.

“Don’t open it,” he said.

“Of course not!” Helen snapped. “But . . . .”

“We can work this out.” Jon forced a confidence he didn’t have into his voice. He tried to remember what color his door normally was and came up blank. “These things, they play tricks on your mind, fool your senses. But it’s possible to see through them.”

“How?”

The doubt in Helen’s voice was painful. Lord, he wished he could see properly again. Just for one moment. But, no, Basira had done it without Seeing. She put her mind back together one brick at a time, with brute force, until she was able to walk out of the Unknowing. If it was possible there, it was possible here. They just needed something to start with.

He loosened his grip on Helen’s arm, reluctantly. It was a relief when she slid her hand up to take his, gripping it with a furious strength – he wanted to keep a hold of her. If he held onto her, she couldn’t slip through any more cracks. No, cracks was someone else, wasn’t it? The one who cleaned houses. Houses and doors and cracks and – focus. Focus.

“How many doors do you see right now?” He asked. “Let’s start with that.”

“One,” she answered. The quaver that had faded from her voice while they spoke was returning, as she stared at the dark yellow wood. “Just one. The . . . the same one.”

One door? That was wrong. There were two doors to his office. There had always been two doors.

“I see two. But both of them look the same.”

Helen swallowed. “How many does your office usually have?”

“I . . . I don’t know. I think - twenty? No, that’s . . .” he laughed nervously. “That’s way too many, isn’t it? That doesn’t make sense.”

“It does sound like a lot,” Helen agreed.

They stood in helpless silence for a while, looking from one wall to the other. Each one had a door. Some had more than one. Some had less than one. All of them had one.

“Don’t suppose you keep a week’s worth of water and camping supplies in here,” she said weakly. “Just in case?”

“Afraid not.”

“Worth trying.” Helen's eyes traced the walls. “Do you think he’s going to come through one of them?”

“I don’t think so. He might, but -” Jon frowned, trying to remember something. “But he wants us to open his door. It . . . choices matter.”

Choices matter, except when they don’t. Infinite tiny decisions and paths, countless choices with uncountable consequences. Wandering through life, stomping on butterflies.

“Focus,” he muttered to himself. “Helen – ah, Ms. Ms Richardson –”

“Oh, Helen is fine. If we’re going to die together we may as well be on a first name basis.”

“Helen, then. When you came into my office, what did you see? What was the first thing you noticed?

“Wh- I don’t know. Your desk?”

“Picture it. What angle were you seeing it from?”

“You mean . . . oh,” realization hit her, and she turned to face the eastern wall. “The front! I was seeing it from the front . . . so the door I came through must have been on that wall.”

“Right. We can ignore all the others,” Jon turned to face the wall with her. “It’s down to the three on this wall.”

“Four.” Helen corrected him.

“Right, two,” he agreed.

He closed his eyes, trying to picture the door to his office, the real one. It was light stained wood, unpainted, with a bright brass handle. That was right, it felt right.

When he opened his eyes, everything was clear. There was one door on the wall he was facing. Light stained wood, unpainted, the door that led back to the world. Keeping hold of Helen, he stepped forward to open it.

His hand closed around the matte black handle and turned.

Everything stopped making sense after that.

* * *

The door opened again in document storage and spit Jon out. He tumbled onto the floor, stumbling on his hands and knees. He was alone. The first coherent thought he had was that Helen was gone again. She'd been pulled into the corridors and he'd tried to keep hold of her hand, but it was impossible to hold onto anything in there.

A fever-dream laugh echoed from behind him. The Distortion hovered nearby, watching with an expression of amusement.

“That was a very stupid thing to do,” it observed.

“Give her back,” Jon tried to sound aggressive, commanding, but it wasn’t in him and his words came out like a whimper. “Y-you. . . you don’t need her. You’ll take other victims . . . you don’t need this one.”

“Oh?” It laughed, and his teeth ached. “Do you have anyone to recommend?”

“N-no, I meant. . . .” Jon swallowed. “Just give her back.”

“. . . No.”

“Hnn.” Jon found he was laughing, hollowly and without amusement. “You’ll regret that.”

“Are you threatening me?” It sounded entertained at the idea.

“No,” he replied. “It’s just a fact. Keeping her won’t turn out well for you.”

Michael said nothing. Jon stared at the floor, trying to get his bearings. Twisted afterimages were still swarming in his brain, and he felt exhausted. Without looking, he sensed the Distortion moving closer – the dizzy-sick feeling growing stronger with its presence. He grimaced as it touched one sharp finger to his head.

“Do you know that you have spiders in your hair?” It asked.

Jon felt his stomach drop.

“Wh-what?”

A door shut behind him, and he was alone.

#tma fanfic #tma #that's right motherfuckers it's helen time #also for those who were wondering about elias #have some almost-answers #time travel au

[sweeethinny]

Reputation - ... Ready for it?  (Chapter 1)

As I said I would, here is a 15 chapter fanfic, where each one is a scenario and a song from TS, from the reputation album. It does not necessarily follow an order, or, follow the book, there may be non-canonical things. Anyway, I hope you like it, it was fun to make this story

AO3

-----------------

Knew he was a killer first time that I saw him.  Wondered how many girls he had loved and left haunted

''Urgh, since when is he so handsome?’’ The girl beside her whimpered, looking lost in her study plan as soon as Harry entered the library, discussing something with Ron and Hermione, oblivious to all the looks he was receiving. As always.

Of course Ginny had noticed that Harry had grown stronger, and taller, and more handsome, as if that could be possible for Merlin's sake! The two spent a summer together at The Burrow, it was common for her to notice changes, but there was something about other girls noticing the change too, that feeling her stomach turn and her cheeks flush.

''It's just because he has all this mysterious way of saying little'' Dean - her boyfriend !!! - He shrugged, moving unpretentiously in the book and smiling cute, looking at Ginny with that puppy face "You look beautiful today" She tried to smile, really, even though she felt even more blush and laughed nervously, moving her hand like away from praise, and go back to your study.

She had long since - or hoped so - overcome her crush by the Boy-Who-Lived, had followed Hermione's advice and started seeing new people, Michael had not been the best boyfriend of all, if she was being kind, but Dean was good. Of course, her efforts to always be kind and gentleman were overwhelming at times, but nothing that she couldn't stand. It was worth it too, he was a very handsome boy.

Harry laughed at something Ron had said, messing up the black hair she had long dreamed of running her hand over, then denying it and making another comment.

''But it's not fair that you expect me to focus on Herbology when he's clearly trying to cause the female population to die!’’ As if that were her cue, Ginny stood up, almost running, not trying to pay much attention to the fact that his laughter was too good to hear, or that every time he touched his hair, his sweater gave a little lift, showing a small piece of skin.

The girl ran to the middle of the shelves with the excuse of looking for a book, trying to calm down and remember that she was dating (!!!) and that obviously, wishing Harry Potter was not the most sensible thing to do.

"Everything is okay? Do you want help?" Dean scared her, appearing from behind like a ghost, reaching for a Potions book that she could easily pick up. "Is that the one you wanted?"

''Ah .. no, actually, leave it, I find myself here'' It took for her boyfriend to convince hirself that she could have more than one neuron to find the book she was looking for, leaving her alone again.

Ginny hid in the deepest part of the library, happy to calm thoughts about Harry's skin, and how fast her heart was beating when Hestia spoke of him as if she could melt in a puddle before the boy even looked at her, since when she did pay attention to boys? The colleague spent five years without even mentioning it, but apparently, Potter's stretching and changing voice was enough to wake her up.

"Hey, Gin" She opened her eyes almost jumping three feet back, hitting her head on a shelf and the elbow in the corner of another

''Merlin, Harry'' His heart was beating fast, almost out of chest, while the boy was in a lovely shade of pink

''Sorry, I-I didn't mean to scare you ... Is everything okay? '' His worried gaze swept over her, looking for any bruises, and Ginny almost thought there might be some touch of ulterior motives in those green eyes.

But if he's a ghost, then I can be a phantom Holding him for ransom Some boys are trying too hard, he don't try at all, though

''Yes, yes ... I was just, er ... looking for a book '' She wanted to beat herself up

''Eyes closed?'' No, Harry, don't look at me that way, with that stupid little smile, she thought, feeling the organs swirl

'’Just resting before going back to work'' Shrugged, acting very well to hide her nervousness. Since when did he smell so strong? Not that it was bad, by far, but it looked a lot more ... Harry looked a lot less like that scared boy on the platform at the age of 11, and more like a man. And Ginny hated to notice that, too.

Younger than my exes but he act like such a man, so I see nothing better, I keep him forever Like a vendetta-ta 

The boy laughed nasally, ruffling his dark hair before getting too close to her, really, almost pinning her against the bookcase and his body, the green eyes looking much darker up close, and his perfume became almost suffocating - and she thought she could die suffocated and happy. Ginny was suddenly hot in the middle of October, her chest rising and falling at an almost deadly pace. The way Harry kept his gaze on her, making her feel small and like prey, was mesmerizing, and her eleven-year-old girl was jumping with joy from side to side, almost tearing hair out. Ginny thought he would kiss her, so close.

Okay, she had a boyfriend, but at that moment, Dean was the last thing on his mind.

I-I-I see how this is gon' go Touch me and you'll never be alone I-Island breeze and lights down low No one has to know

Harry stretched, picking up a book on top of her head, smiling awkwardly when he returned, all shy, in the way that only Harry Potter could look cute and attractive, and not like a goofball.

Argh, how she hated him right now.

''Do you think I did a good job as a captain?'' Was she wondering, or did Harry look very disconcerted?

''What? Ah .. yes, you were great, all bossy and everything '' Laughed weakly, trying to dispel the mixed feelings that haunted her, ignoring the tremor that ran through her legs. ''See you later, Harry'' And she left, thinking that if stayed another minute, would do something stupid like praising his ass or any other shit. She had a boyfriend, a great one, how can you think of kissing another ?!

Maybe, just maybe, she hadn't gotten over that noble idiot one hundred percent.

Months later...

''Really, Gin, you're going to be the cause of my death'' The two were lying on the grass, holding hands, while she was propped up on his chest looking at him laughing, passing her nails unpretentiously around, feeling every bit his.

Harry sighed

''Mm .. tell me more '' She wanted to jump for joy, scream to the seven winds that he had kissed her (even though everyone had seen it), and run across the castle in a pure adrenaline shot. But, she was content to hang around with Harry in the gardens.

With Harry!!! Heavens, your eleven-year-old self was in a hospital bed at the time.

''There's nothing to talk about '' He played with her hair still stuck in a tail, smoothing the strands and letting his fingers run down her back, causing delicious chills ''Nothing much ''

''So the fact that you just told me, that I've been on your mind since the holidays, is nothing?'' Ginny wouldn't even comment on that revelation and how much her pride soared. Just knowing that Harry thought about her too, it was a happiness that made her want to dance like crazy

In the middle of the night, in my dreams You should see the things we do, baby In the middle of the night, in my dreams I know I'm gonna be with you So I take my time Are you ready for it?

''It's a lot, if we think I sleep in the same room as your brother AND your ex boyfriend .. It was almost masochism'' Harry smiled ''But it was worth it'' He shrugged, kissing her again, still with hands on her back / waist, legs intertwined in the grass, and keeping her constantly close, as if to make sure she was there, alive.

Ginny didn't resist, insisting on staying close and that her whole body touched his, sinking the kiss and thinking that she could explode with happiness.

''Taking risks for me'' She commented as soon as they parted, smiling slyly ''How cute, Potter'' Squeezed his pink cheeks, adjusting the crooked glasses

''Dean whimpered all night almost a few days ago ... You are mean, Weasley ''

Knew I was a robber first time that he saw me Stealing hearts and running off and never saying sorry But if I'm a thief, then he can join the heist

''Romilda won't be left behind, don't worry. She and Hestia have been filling my patience since the beginning of the year, apparently irritated by your lack of attention'' Harry laughed, green eyes swimming in a happiness that Ginny hadn't seen for a while ... well, maybe she never saw him laugh so much since Sirius' death. For a moment, she wanted to hug him, but that meant losing eye contact, and it didn't seem possible and right.

''Jealous?'' She denied

''You dream, right Potter, but no, just nauseated that with so many subjects to debate, they prefer to talk about what your perfume is, or, if your kiss is good .. ''

''..And is? Harry is shy then, looking intently at her, looking for some trace of a lie, while tightening her waist, blushing like a tomato

''I can lose half an hour with you'' She smiled, kissing him again only to feel all that explosion of hormones again, trying to hide, and failing, her enthusiasm. She was never feeling so happy.

And we'll move to an island, and And he can be my jailer, Burton to this Taylor (hey!) Every love I've known in comparison is a failure (hey) I forget their names now, I'm so very tame now Never be the same now, now

''I think we stayed here longer than that, Gin'' He looked at her as if she were the most precious thing in the world, delicately running a finger over her freckled cheek, and smiling in the corner when he saw her blush ''You are beautiful''

''Thank you'' She laughed awkwardly, touching his hair, which was soft and fragrant, perfect for hand-rubbing ''You're not bad at all ''

''I'm glad to know that I am within your standard of beauty'' She dropped to the grass beside him, turning her body so that she was facing him, holding her head with one hand, still leaving the other on his chest, who beat rhythmically

''Do you think they're talking about us?''

''Do you mind? Why, er ... people get into my life a lot'' Ginny would usually say that she hated having all the attention for herself, but something about how Harry said that, as if thinking much further, not just talking about gossip students, made her silly heart melt, while smiling and moving shoulders, before leaning down to kiss him again

''Worth it''.

Baby, let the games begin Let the games begin Let the games begin Are you ready for it?

#hinny #hinnyheadcanon #hinnyprompt #hinny au #harry X ginny #Harry Potter #harry potter and the half blood prince #hp hbp #missing moments #hinny missing moments #read-a-hinny-fic #hp fanfic #my fic #reputation

[waitineedaname]

frame the halves and call them a whole

also on ao3

--

“Alright, I’ve got a bad one.”

“Oh, lord.”

“Brace yourself.”

“I’m bracing!” Sasha made a show of gripping the short carpet on her living room floor and Tim grinned, leaning back against her coffee table.

“Would you rather… date a spider with the head of a human, or a human with the head of a spider?”

“Jesus. I see someone has been reading the discredited statements.”

“Guilty.” Tim shrugged cheekily. 

The two of them were sitting on the floor in Sasha’s flat, and she’d long since lost track of what time it was. Ever since they’d been moved to the Archives, they’d made an agreement to go out and do something together once a week. Sometimes that meant getting sloshed and losing at pub trivia, sometimes that meant dragging each other to whatever new film had made it to theaters that week, and sometimes that meant playing sleepover games in the middle of the night, as if they were twelve year olds and not thirty-somethings with 9-to-5’s. Neither of them had the energy to go out drinking and there wasn’t anything good in the theaters that week, so the third option had won out. They’d ended up on the floor when Sasha made an ill-advised comment about not being ticklish and Tim called her bluff. She’d dissolved into hysterical giggles and he’d said something about how being an oldest sibling meant having a sixth sense for someone’s ticklish spots, and then he’d gone very still and quiet. She’d taken his hand and squeezed and initiated the game of would-you-rather they found themselves in now.

“Okay. Let me think about this.” She drummed her fingers on her lips contemplatively. Tim smiled in that fond way he did when he didn’t want to outright laugh at her. “Are the human and spider bits proportional?”

“Ooh, very good question, Sash. Let’s say they’re the normal sizes for your average spiders and humans.”

“So my options are a human head scuttling around on spider legs or a human with an absolutely microscopic spider head?”

“Yep!” Tim said, popping the ‘p.’

“I’m going to go with option A. I mean, if it’s a human head, I could still hold a conversation with it, right? And I don’t think spiders would make good kissers.”

“I think some of our statement givers would disagree with that judgment.”

“Please don’t tell me we have a statement about a human body with a spider head. I don’t think I could take it.”

“Sure do! Statement number 9170108, or something like that. Some freaked out old coot convinced his neighbor’s head was fake and he was keeping a tiny little spider underneath the fake head.”

“Christ. I’m glad Jon didn’t ask me to look into that one. I might have quit on the spot.” Sasha laughed.

“Aw, and then leave me and Martin to deal with Jon? You know how he gets with the spider ones.” 

“Hm, fair. The Archives need someone sensible around.”

“Hey, you’re not the sole voice of reason down there!”

“You’re right. Martin can be fairly practical when he wants.” She failed to bite back her smirk when Tim clutched his chest, feigning pain.

“Oh, how you wound me, Ms. James! Here I was, thinking it was Tim and Sasha versus the world, but you’ve betrayed me for Martin!”

“Is that your proposal for a Scott Pilgrim reboot? Am I Ramona in this scenario?”

“No, we’re both Scott Pilgrim because combined, we can equal the pure sexual energy of one Michael Cera.”

“Eugh! Gross!” She retched and kicked at him, making him laugh. 

“I’m kidding!”

“You better be! Any and all horniness for Michael Cera is banned in this flat!”

“That’s fair.” He caught her foot and shoved it back at her. “Knives and Ramona were both way too good for him, anyway. They should’ve ended up together at the end.”

“That’s the first intelligent thing you’ve said all night.”

“You’re really not pulling any punches tonight, huh?”

“Nope. My turn. Would you rather...” She crossed her arms and stared him down long enough to make him squirm, “get stoned with Jon or Elias?”

Tim groaned so loud she worried her neighbors would complain. “No. Absolutely not. You cannot make me choose that.”

“Hey, you asked about spider people!”

“Yeah, and I’d argue that dealing with my bosses while stoned is worse than a human head skittering around on the walls!”

“Oh, come on. Jon isn’t that bad.”

“Sasha. You were friends with him in Research. I was friends with him in Research. Last time we got drinks, he talked about South American moths for forty minutes. I’m getting a headache just thinking about listening to him while he’s stoned.”

“Maybe it’ll calm him down.”

“Maybe.” Tim pouted, and Sasha did her best not to giggle. “Alright fine. I choose Jon, but only because I cannot imagine Elias getting within eyesight of anything as fun as weed without shriveling up and acting like an affronted Victorian gentleman.”

“Okay, first of all, the Victorians loved drugs, they were high on opiates all the time-"

"Like hell am I doing opiates with Elias."

"Second of all, I may have looked into what Elias was like before he got promoted…” She trailed off and bit back a laugh when Tim's jaw dropped.

“No.” 

“And he was a major stoner.”

“You can’t just say these things. I refuse to accept it.”

“I’m serious!”

“Are we talking about the same Elias? The Elias Bouchard that uses words like grandiloquent and apropos? The Elias Bouchard that gets pissy if you round up on your time card?”

“You know what’s even worse?”

“Please don’t make it worse.”

“I’ve seen him wear those socks with weed patterns on them.”

“I told you not to make it worse.” Tim wailed and covered his face. “I swear, if I saw that, I would gouge my eyes out without hesitation.” Sasha patted his leg sympathetically. 

“Well, good thing you chose Jon, then.”

“I guess so! Fuck’s sake.” He sighed and flopped over onto his side to lie on the floor. Sasha laughed at him goodnaturedly, and then joined him on the floor. She expected him to be thinking of his next would-you-rather prompt, but after a long minute of him silently running his fingers through the carpet, he surprised her by asking, “Do you ever miss Jon?”

“Sorry?” She said, confused. “We see him every day, Tim.”

“No, I…” He huffed, “You know what I mean. Do you miss the Jon we knew in Research?”

“Oh…” Sasha caught onto his drift and fell silent, unsure what to say. Tim was clearly brimming with emotions that he was struggling to get out, so she let him take a minute.

“Not saying he’s a completely different person now, but… I don’t know. We used to get drinks with him. He used to laugh at our jokes. He used to make jokes. Weird, dark jokes, but still jokes, you know? But these days, it’s all business, all the time. I don’t think I’ve seen him smile in months. All… All snappish comments and ‘research this, call this statement giver, stop goofing off during work hours.’ Never mind that just a year ago, he was the one using work hours to show us cat videos because he got distracted during his lunch break.” The side of Tim’s face was smushed into the floor and his one free eye was focused on the whorls he was creating with his fingers in the carpet. Up close as they were, Sasha could see the light scar on his chin that he’d once told her was the result of an ill-advised dare as a child, when his brother had challenged him to see if they could jump off the back deck of their house. She touched it, and he leaned into her hand, eyes distant and sad. “I just…” He spoke softly, “I miss my friend.”

“I miss him too.” Sasha said honestly, though she knew Tim was taking it harder than she was. “You know it’s not your fault, right?”

“I know that.” Tim said, and she believed him. “It’s this stupid job. The stupid Archives. I miss being in Research, where I could make fun of the weirdos in the Archives, but now we’re the weirdos in the Archives.”

“We work at an institute that studies the supernatural. I think we’re the weirdos no matter which department we’re in.” She said, aiming for some levity and feeling relieved when Tim let out a soft huff of laughter.

“Fair. Still. The vibes in there are…”

“Bad.” She finished for him.

“You can say that again.” He finally shifted to look at her again. “If you were the Head Archivist-”

“Tim-” She warned, not wanting to dig up an old sore point. 

“I’m serious. If you were the Archivist, do you think you’d act like this?”

“Would I push you away, you mean.” She said. He shrugged and nodded. “I don’t know. I really don’t, Tim. I’d like to say I wouldn’t, but who knows what kind of pressure it involves. I can be just as intense as Jon when I feel pressured.”

“Yeah, but you’d be way nicer than him.”

“You don’t know that.” Sasha said, firm but gentle. 

“...Guess I don’t.” Tim sighed and shut his eyes. She reached down and squeezed his hand. He squeezed back.

“Next time you’re missing Jon, call me instead, okay? Or Martin, he’d love that.” She ran her thumb over his and gave him a small smile. “You can always count on me.”

His gaze is impossibly soft as he looks up at her, and he seems to almost forget to respond at first. “Yeah.” He finally says. “I can always count on you, Sash.” A cheeky grin spread across his face, breaking the tender moment. “The Pilgrim to my Scott.”

She laughed and let go of his hand to push his shoulder into the leg of the coffee table playfully. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“It makes perfect sense!” He protested despite his own laughter. “Okay, maybe it doesn’t make sense, but it’s the thought that counts. I’m poetic.”

“No, you’re sleep-deprived.” She sat up enough to eye the microwave from her vantage point in the kitchen. “Oh lord, it’s 2am, no wonder. You always get sappy at 2am.”

“I do not!”

“You do. Big sap.” She patted his cheek playfully and stood. “Want me to get you some extra blankets for the couch?”

“That’d be great.” He hauled himself to his feet, groaning all the way. She snickered.

“You sound like an old man.”

“I’ll have you know, I’m young and spry.” He complained, stretching.

“Mhm.” She rolled her eyes and went to the closet.

“At the prime of my life.”

“And yet you make dad noises getting out of a chair.”

“Hey, lying on the floor isn’t good for your back! Aren’t you older than me anyway?”

“Maybe, but I’m not the one complaining about my back.” She cut off whatever complaint he had prepared by throwing a quilt at him. He caught it and stuck his tongue out at her. She returned the gesture and grabbed another blanket. “Are two blankets good?”

“That’s perfect.” He took the blanket gratefully and settled on the couch. “Should I make breakfast as thanks?”

“You don’t have to,” Sasha immediately said out of politeness, but then added, “But if you want to make pancakes…”

“Understood. I’ll see you bright and early with some pancakes, then.” Tim smiled up at her and made himself comfortable on the couch.

“See you in the morning, Tim.” She turned to walk to her room, but stopped at the doorway when Tim piped up again.

“Sasha?”

“Hm?” She looked back at him and saw his best flirty grin on his face. He winked and blew a kiss at her. More than used to his nonsense, she gasped and pretended to catch the invisible kiss, then promptly put her hand to mouth and pretended to eat the kiss. Tim clutched his heart and fell back onto the couch, trying to act like he wasn’t holding back laughter. “No, you’re so cruel!”

“Good night, Tim.” She said, closing the door behind herself before her poker face could break.

“Good night, Sasha.” She heard through the door, full of fondness and amusement in equal parts. 

Sasha rolled out of bed the next morning to find Tim making pancakes, as promised. They sat at her kitchen table and bickered playfully about movies; Tim listened patiently as she infodumped about the history of science fiction as a genre, and she let him rant for the fiftieth time about Indiana Jones. Tim insisted on washing the dishes like a gentleman, and Sasha insisted on squirting bubbles out of the dish detergent bottle at him. They didn’t speak a word about work or their conversation from the night before, but she hugged him very tightly before he left, as if conveying all the emotion she could through touch alone. From the way he squished his face into her shoulder, it seemed the message came across. 

“I’ll make sure to get you the spider guy’s number.” He said when they finally pulled apart, and she snorted.

“You’re insufferable, you know that?” She said, shoving him out the door.

“So I’ve heard.” He winked and walked backwards down the hall outside her flat. She sighed and waved, a smile on her face as she shut the door.

If he bugged her and Martin more than usual after talking to Jon the following week, she didn’t mention it.

#tma #the magnus archives #sasha james #tim stoker #ambiguous timsasha #my writing #okay to reblog #I blame the liveshow for making this more emotional than intended #wrote more than half of this in one sitting instead of writing my final paper how are y'all doing #my hobbies include infusing dialogue with as much dramatic irony as possibly and crying about s1 archival gang