#I think this is the first time I’ve written about Michael besides a joke-

[l3viat8an]

ive been struck with michael brainrot all of sudden!! idk how he would meet mc, but i'd imagine that he would study their face, maybe even holding their cheek as he takes in their features. mc is silent as he does so, only making a noise of surprise when the angel laughs.

"you're even more adorable than how simeon described you."

"i... thank y- wait. simeon called me adorable!?"

Jsksjsk this is so funny to me cuz just imagine!!-

Michael is over here taking in every little detail he can about!! Sure he’s seen you in pictures with Simeon, Luke and Raphael….

But just getting to see you up close feels like a treat for the angel (and we all know how much Michael loves his sweets-) that is until you seem far more interested in what Simeon said about you. “Well, yes. Even Raphael has commented on your appearance.” “He has?!” “Yes.” Michael face starts calm, his small smile still in place.

After all he’s an angel. There’s no way he’s jealous- 

[tuttifuckinfruttifriday]

All slashers with a S/O who counts on their fingers:

For @iloveslasher ;) since asked! idk when I’ll open my requests (inbox)

Warnings: teasing, some cuteness, lots of confusion, referring to Pennywise as “they”, ooc Doom Head

I’ll probably forget some since I’ve got lots on my list :,)

It’s the longest thing I’ve ever written!

I’m SO, SO sorry it took me so long D:

Sorry if I made some mistakes or missed some things!

Michael Myers

He probably doesn’t even see it at first, not until he sees you at the table with a sheet full of your month expenses and your fingers moving up and down while you look down at the scribbled numbers.

If he cares, he sure doesn’t show it. He’ll just look at you from the doorway and maybe tilt his head before walking away. If you do that again though, he’ll stare at you and wait until you notice him before he walks over and finally understands that you’re just counting, which makes him almost facepalm.

I don’t think he ever did it, and he never will.

Jason Voorheese

The first time he’ll see you counting will probably make him smile as you’re looking at the ceiling, your lips moving a little as you put your fingers up then back down.

He did that when he was a kid and still does it sometimes, but only rarely though! So he understands how it can help you and will only smile whenever he sees you doing that. He finds it so cute coming from you! He’s happy he isn’t the only one who did and does that.

He’ll be less self conscious to do that because you do it.

Charles Lee Ray/Chucky

He’ll laugh when he sees you focused on something and moving your fingers, a shit-eating grin on his face. “What tf are you doing?”

If he startles you he’ll laugh even more as you try to explain it helps you counting. He’ll then tease you about it, seeming like a big meany, when he‘s just really curious ,even if he would never dare admit it.

When you see him at the kitchen table trying to count while moving his fingers, don’t tell him you saw. He’s got too much pride to be caught doing something so “stupid” like he told you when he saw you at first.

Tiffany Valentine

You’ll probably laugh at how big her smile will become when she sees you. She’ll probably squeal like a fangirl too.

What can she say? It’s so cute! So whenever she sees you, she’ll hug you from behind and if she sees that you lost your count, she’ll feel guilty and help you count back, trying the trick with her fingers.

If we’re talking about your concentrated face as you do that, oh boyy.. She will stare at you with a smile on her face, but will look away when you’re about to catch her. She’ll try it behind your back one time, but won’t really do it after.

Brahms Heelshire

He’s really happy when he sees you doing it. You count on your fingers?! He does that too!

He’ll help you if you need some help and will compliment you and tell you about how you’re twinsies for doing that.

Everything you do is cute (y/n)... So be prepared for him to be amazed by your cuteness, even if like I said multiples times earlier, he does that too.

He’s pretty childish though, so he might tease you when he’s feeling like it. Don’t hesitate to tell him if he offends you or if he’s being a brat, he’ll immediately stop.

If you’re too concentrated, he WILL try to make you pay more attention to him.

Freddy Krueger

Wanna talk about teasing? He’s going to tease the HELL out of you when he sees you. He’ll act confused, even a little disgusted as he call out your childish behaviour, but it’s all obviously a big joke to him.

If you’re offended, he’ll just laugh in your face and roll his eyes, smirking if you frown or become mad at him.

He’ll be so smug as he looks at you deep in thoughts, your fingers moving as you try to keep count of whatever you’re counting, before he scares the bejesus outta you.

He’ll probably try it once and like it, which will result in him doing it without you noticing.

Thomas Hewitt

If he comes up and sees you sitting at the table, your fingers moving up and down as you’re trying to count whatever you’re counting, he’ll be curious.

He knows you’re counting, he just didn’t thought you would do it like that! When he was younger, he used to do that to help himself too.

He’ll probably sit and watch you for some time, a small smile on his face. If he distracts you, he’ll feel so sorry! He’ll fidget and probably get up to get back down, but if you stop him he’ll stay reluctantly.

Bubba Sawyer

What?? What are you doing??

He’s clueless at first and only watches, his eyes following the movement of your fingers before they stray to your concentrated face as he tries to be quiet.

Lots of happy noises and cute babbles when you tell him it’s to help you count. He never really had to count, but he did it sometimes too! He definitely will always do that now<3

If his brothers make fun of it, he won’t hesitate to let them know his mind with the threat of a hammer.

Nubbins Sawyer (since I count him as a slasher)

When he sees you, he’ll tilt his head and come closer, sitting beside you and trying to keep silent to not make you loose your counting.

He can take the guess that you’re counting, he probably knows it, but he finds it cute that you do it with your fingers.

He’ll probably goofs about it, doing the same as you do whenever he needs to count, even if it’s to count to three.

Prepare yourself for some camera flashes! He will shamelessly try to capture you in pictures and put them on his wall, and he’ll talk about it like it’s normal if you ask him hehe

Chop Top Sawyer

He’s like his twin, but even more goofier.

But he’s a nuisance too.

When he sees you counting, he won’t even think about it and make you loose your count, then he will apologies and try to hug you even if you don’t want to. He feels bad!

Definitely trying, though. More to make you laugh and joke than to really count <3

ChromeSkull/Jesse Cromeans

It couldn’t be funnier to see his massive frame stop in the doorway, his eyes fixated on your smaller form as you’re trying to count something. He’ll only stare at you, like Michael, but will probably go see what you’re doing.

Whenever you do that, he’s going to tease you to hell and back, but it’s only because he finds you really cute!

His smoll S/O is counting on their fingers! Aww!

It’s only playfully though, he doesn’t (kinda does) wants to be mean or anything.

He doesn’t do that, but doesn’t have anything against it so he’ll try.

The Collector/Asa Emory

Oh... Okay?

He’s probably the one that acts the most normal about it at first. Like, you do you.

He sure will find it childish and a little bit funny, but he won’t say anything about it.

After that, there’s two ways it can go, one: he can go in with his day and just forget about it or two: he can just stare and silently wonder how cute it is you’re doing that.

He doesn’t do it, but he might try ONE time, feeling like it’s kind of ridiculous.

Pin Head

He won’t see you and won’t say anything about it— Or maybe he will, you never know what this guy will say or sees.

He’ll probably lift one of his non existent brows and will go away, leaving you to count. If you see him, he’ll maybe say something or like I said just go away without a word.

He doesn’t have time for this, so he probably won’t try.

Doom Head

As soon as his eyes land on you, a grin will escape him.

He’ll definitely distract you, chuckling if you become mad. But he’ll tickle you to make you forget about it! Even if you’re not ticklish.

He might cuddle for some time with you if you’re mad enough, reluctantly as he would seem grumpy.

He won’t try, but he’s got nothing against watching you.

Carry White(NEW!)

She’ll be the normal one probably, smiling if she sees you at first.

She’ll let you do it, and might even try it if you feel insecure about that^^

Scratch that, she WILL do it.

She’s SO nice about it too🥺!

CandyMan

A deep chuckle will escape him when he sees you sitting, your fingers moving as you look deep in thoughts. He might even try to capture this moment with a little sketch!

He’ll look at you lovingly as you pout your lips as they move, your brows furrowing as you finish counting.

If you’re not finished and you see him, he’ll only shake his head and murmur a “don’t mind me” with one of his charming smiles.

He’ll try counting on his fingers if it makes you happy!

The Creeper

What...??

Super confused at first, until he hears you mumbling some numbers.

After that, he finds it really cute like most of the slashers <3 he’ll definitely tease you about it with some purrs in between, just to make you loose what you were counting and pay attention to him. He might feel a little left out if you take too long.

You want some help? He’ll just pop up randomly and start counting with you, a little smirk as he counts on his fingers too.

Jig Saw/John Kramer

He’ll chuckle at first, seeing you so concentrated with your back to him.

He’ll watch you for some time, but he’ll sit beside you and probably will help you if you need some help.

He’s got nothing against trying, if it makes you happy<3

Amanda Young

She’ll just smile when sees you, walking back towards what she’s doing if she’s doing anything. If not, she’ll just watch you and wait for you to finish.

She’ll make some comments here and then, but she isn’t mean about it.

Probably tries!

Mark Hoffman

Okay, first thing... why can’t you use the calculator before you?

Well, he’ll smile tho when he sees you so concentrated bit won’t bother you. He’ll make some small comments that you probably won’t put together, but he won’t say much about it.

He won’t try, maybe just one tiny time.

Poly!Ghostface/Billy&Stu

Billy will be more chill about it, but Stu will try not to giggle to loud as he stops him in the doorway, his hands on his face.

It’s cute! It reminds him too much of a kid<3 you’re precious

The two of them will laugh/chuckle when they see you’ve caught them, but they won’t look away and Stu will even ask if you need some help!

They will both try, but Billy prefers sticking to paper.

Norman Bates

He’ll be kind of confused for 1 second, just to realize when he hears your small mutters.

“O-Oh! You’re counting? Let me help you!-“

Even if you tell him you don’t need help, he’ll insist and you two will probably be counting on your fingers, even if he prefers paper. His mother might say it’s too childish, but he won’t even care.

He’ll try it, but only when he’s with you.

Otis Driftwood

He’ll be hella confused, maybe chuckle a bit.

“You back in kindergarten or something?”

If you’re downstairs and Baby is near, she’ll smack the back of his head and send him a little glare.

Immediately feels bad if he sees you slouching! He’ll give you a head pat or a hug, trying to not seem too lovey-dovey.

When you’re alone together, he’ll probably tell you he didn’t mean it in a bad way.

He won’t really try it, except if you really want him to,

Captain Spaulding

Of course he’ll probably laugh at first when he sees you.

“What the hell are you doing?”

If he scares you, he’ll feel a little bad and ask the same thing, a small smile on his face.

When you tell him, he’ll laugh like it a joke, but stops once he sees you aren’t laughing.

Why... Why are you counting like that?? How can that help you??

He’s confused, but he’ll still smile and joke a lot about it if he sees he made you sad or feel insecure.

He’ll definitely try!

Vincent Sinclair

He acts pretty normal about it, if as-soon as-he-sees-you-he-tries-to-capture-the-moment counts as normal. But if somewhere throughout your relationship you’ve made comments about him not taking moments out of sketches, he’ll just stare in awe.

He sure does find it kind of funny tho!

He’ll look at you and smile softly behind his mask, blushing madly and turning away if he sees you’ve caught him.

He’s the first to try it, but he’ll do shyly<3

Bo Sinclair

When he sees you, he’ll do some jokes about it and tease you, because we all know that he’s the Queen of teasing (😂)

But seriously tho, it’s just because he finds you really cute. Like, who does that anymore?? He did that when he was a kid!

He’ll tell you it’s childish and all, but you might catch him trying to count on his fingers at the end of the day

Jack Torrance

That’s cute! He’ll definitely smirk each time he sees you doing that.

He’ll act goofy about it... But it’s just to hide the fact that Danny did that.

If you ever tell him that because you see through him, he’ll probably just frown or have a full breakdown while hugging you tight. Just don’t talk about that when he’s finished...

He might try, but probably only to be funny.

Art The Clown

He obviously won’t say anything about it and watch you, mimicking you for fun and grinning as soon as you see him.

If he’s in the mood, he might sit beside you and count on his fingers too, for what? We’ll never know.

He acts like it’s one of the cutest things, you might even see him framing his face with his hands, or maybe you won’t if he wants to be sneaky.

Is it a question? He’ll definitely do that now!

Pennywise(1990/2017)

What are you doing, human?

IT will be the only one who doesn’t understand one bit, having no idea what tf you would do that for.

They will just tilt their head, maybe try it^^

But they’re definitely the one who made fun of you for it, kinda playfully

Leslie Vernon

He’ll stop what he’s doing just to watch you, a smile on his face. But when you’ll look towards him, you’ll see him looking at his things like nothing happened 👀

He’s so sneaky about it you won’t even notice each time he’s looking at you.

It might slip sometime later tho, he’ll tell you with a big goofy smile before acting shocked and smirking at your face.

He’ll try!

Leprechaun/Lubdan

This guy will smirk about it, probably will scare you with a little magic too.

If you loose your count, he’ll have it counted in one second, so please try not kill him 😂

He honestly finds it really cute, not that he would say it (except if you’re cuddling he might hehe)

He’s got nothing against trying it, but he’ll probably be really confused.

The Moaner/Billy Lenz

He does it mostly all the time, but he’ll still tilt his head when he sees you sitting peacefully, a piece of papier and a pencil before you as you’re concentrated on counting.

If he’s feeling it today, he might just sit and stare at you, or he’ll mumble some filthy words under his breath as he bounces his leg, random impatience going through him.

If you see him and try to tell him he’s distracting you, then he’ll be even more of a nuisance

Or he’ll simply just walk away with a blank face, so please consider your options carefully, because that’s not a good sign.

You should probably pay attention to him if you don’t want something in the house broken tho, what do you need counting for anyway?

The Man(Hush)

He finds it funny at first, but he’ll still watch you silently, he might even scare you, like he’ll just sneak and jump before you to make you loose your count

He’ll have a good laugh, but after that he’ll apologies and give you kisses before he sits down and continue to watch you. He won’t do anything after that until you’re finished.

He’ll try! He’ll say he feels silly, but he just finds it cute hehe

Mayor Buckman

Aww! Cute^

As soon as he sees you, he’ll stop what he’s doing and a smile will appear on his face as he watches you so focused in what you’re doing. When he’ll ask you why, his smile becomes bigger and a chuckle might escape him.

He’ll let you do it, might even try it^^ but he’ll insist that you ask him for help whenever you want to count, because he doesn’t want you to take too long.

Herbert West(Dk if he’s a slasher but hehe)

He probably never saw it since he’s so into his work, but he’ll frown when he sees you.

What are you doing? It’s so childish!

Personally, he’s got nothing against counting on your fingers, but he’ll still wonder why?? Why can’t you just use your head??

He’ll be confused even if you say it helps you.

He won’t try.

Patrick Bateman

He might just stare at you blankly or make a “supposed to be funny” comment about it, even though he finds it kinda.. cute

He’s got other things to do, but if you ask him, because he won’t do it if you don’t, he might try counting on his fingers, or maybe he’ll just say an excuse because he don’t want to.

But other than that, yes he might try, just might.

[kindahoping4forever]

When The Sun Came Up, You Were Looking At Me (Prologue) // Ashton Irwin

It really cannot be overstated how excited @cal-puddies​ and I are for you all to finally start reading this fic!! I searched our chat and we actually came up with the skeleton idea for this sequel only TWO DAYS after Remember When We Couldn’t Take The Heat was posted LAST APRIL and we started seriously writing in SEPTEMBER. This is a long time coming. We hope you love it as much as we do and thank you again for encouraging us to continue this story!

Don’t forget we’re alternating chapters so the story continues tomorrow over on Cass’s blog. And of course, you can find links to everything as it’s posted in the masterlist linked below! 

Warnings: Tension, both dramatic and sexual. Mild angst. Meddling but well-meaning friends. The first smut-free work Cass and I have ever written together (don’t worry, we more than make up for it the rest of the series lmao)

Word Count: 3455

Cass & Crystal’s Masterlist  // Series Masterlist

Let  us  know  what  you  think!

The traffic light changes to green and you turn down Luke and Sierra’s street. You roll your eyes at the quickening of your pulse as you think about the party tonight; you’d give anything to skip it but you know Michael and Crystal really want you there and you can’t not show up for them. 

You feel your nerves settle a bit as you step out of the car and see Sierra waiting at the door for you, happy to have you over to get ready together. She grins wide and pulls you into a warm hug, Luke quickly coming over to engulf you as well. Their excited greetings overlap as they literally smother you with affection and you can’t help but laugh at the fuss they’re making.

“You always disappear for too long,” he murmurs, pressing a sweet kiss to the top of your head. 

“Just needed some space,” you say with a shrug. 

“You broke up with Ash, not us,” Sierra reminds you, squeezing your arm. 

“I know, I know,” you nod with a weak smile. 

Luke grabs the bag with your dress in it and takes it to their room while you and Sierra get a drink. “Thank god you’re letting me pre-game,” you joke. 

“How are you feeling about everything?” She asks as you head back with her. 

“Just doin’ my best to be OK,” you admit, without even thinking about Luke overhearing. “It was like… close to an entire year of my life you know? I know it doesn’t seem like much... I just wasn’t ready, you know? And I’m definitely not ready for tonight.” 

Sierra sits on the bed, listening as you sit at her vanity, absentmindedly looking over the beauty products on it.  “It was such an intense relationship, it makes sense you’re not over it yet, babe,” she points out gently.

“I should be over it, though, it was ridiculous. Our whole relationship was based on a foundation of fighting until we fucked to forget why we fought… it didn’t work, we never really communicated about anything.” 

“Well. You already know I’m not a fan of how the breakup went down,” she shakes her head, plugging in the curling iron you’ve been gesturing wildly with. “It’s been a couple months now, you guys still haven’t even texted?”

You scoff, taking a sip of your drink. “Please, we are the king and queen of Stubborn Town, I haven’t seen or heard from that man since I got the last of my stuff from his place,” you shrug. “I guess it still just feels… unfinished. I hate that.”

“I mean, it feels unfinished because you guys left it that way,” she says matter of factly. “You both decided you were done and then just… were? When you love someone, walking away like that doesn’t work.”

“I never said I loved him,” you glare at her through the mirror.

She settles behind you and starts sectioning off your hair. “Never said you didn’t either,” she teases.

Before you know it, 45 minutes have passed and Luke is at the door warning that he’s about to call the Uber; you’re deep into your girl talk catch-up and the knock on the door causes you both to burst into shrieks and giggles, scurrying around the room to finish getting ready.

Miraculously, you get yourselves together in time and as you stand in front of the house waiting for the car to arrive, Luke nudges you gently. “Ash is coming from a meeting on the other side of town, so you’ve got time to relax, he won’t be there for a while,” he reassures you. “And if you feel like you need to leave, let us know and we’ll come up with a reason to swoop you outta there.”

You put your arms around him and squeeze. “I’ve missed you too,” you say with a smile.

Luke tells you and Sierra how nice you both look as he ushers you inside the party. They both watch you scan the room, relaxing once you see Ashton hasn't arrived and then you all break off, making the rounds. 

You greet a few people but end up hanging off to the side, keeping an eye on the door, nervously half-paying attention to anyone who happens to approach you. 

You immediately tense when he enters. Luke moves to welcome him while Sierra comes to you, trying to be a silent support; her babysitting goes from feeling comforting to coddling very quickly and you urge her to go back to mingling. 

You try not to stare but you can’t help it, you haven’t seen him in so long. Even before you were together, when you hated him, it was hard not to be drawn to him. He just has that kind of presence. 

Luke hasn’t left his side since he walked in, chatting away, but you don’t think anything of it. That is, until everyone seems to be finding their place at the various tables and you’re still awkwardly standing to the side. You would typically sit with Luke and Sierra but they’ve made themselves cozy at a table with Ashton and Calum. 

You head for the bar and before you can order, someone comes up beside you. You ignore them until you hear the soft “Hey” fall from his lips, in that lush, slightly accented voice you missed more than you’d care to admit. 

You turn, fully taking him in for the first time tonight; his hair is different than the last time you saw him and he really seems to be feeling himself in his black pants and the lace button-up you used to make fun of. “Hi,” you respond, so quiet that Ash has to lean in to be sure he heard you. 

“Grab your drink and come sit with us,” he says, waving encouragingly. 

“Uh… that’s OK. I might leave,” you shrug. 

He snorts, rolling his eyes at your ridiculous suggestion. “No you won’t. First of all, I know you came with Luke and Sierra and they’re not leaving. Second of all, you’d never let Crystal and Mike down like that. Just come sit,” he insists, gently tugging on the hem of your dress. 

You melt a little inside. This was one of the reasons you liked him so much, he was always so confident that he knew you so well. But it’s also one of the reasons why you fought and he drove you crazy. 

“Fine,” you sigh with a slight smile. He waits for you to order your drink, also making you crazy, like he can’t trust you’ll do as you say.

“There you are!” Sierra smiles as you take the seat across the table from her and Luke. Sitting between Calum and Ashton is a spot you were very familiar being in; they’d constantly lean over you to share a joke and then one of them would fill you in afterwards if you were lucky. Your heart breaks a little when you realize that's not likely to happen now. 

You make small talk with Cal for a bit; you’ve missed his pinchable cheeks and his sweet laugh. You’d spent plenty of time with him when you were with Ashton but hadn’t really kept in touch since the split. He asks you about work and both he and Ash pay close attention as you chat about your job.

Sierra keeps a close eye on the two of you and notices how quickly you get reacquainted. The way Ash naturally rests his arm on the back of your chair. How when he started getting animated with a story, you knowingly shifted all the drinks over until he was finished. How he won’t let himself laugh at his own joke until he checks to make sure you’re laughing first. The hair toss you subconsciously give whenever he does make you laugh.

Later on, she catches him at the refreshment table serving your favorite dessert onto his plate even though it’s something he notoriously doesn’t like. She walks alongside him as he heads back. “You hate that,” she smirks, pointing at the offending dish.

“Oh. Right,” he says, realizing the old habit he just indulged. “She’ll eat it,” he shrugs, quickening his step to avoid any follow-up questions. 

Crystal makes the rounds to thank everyone for coming and stops Sierra with a hug; they chat for a minute but Crystal notices she seems distracted and eventually follows her gaze over to your table. Cal’s deeply invested on his phone, leaving you and Ash chatting by yourselves.

Crystal lightly snorts and leans in to her friend. “What’s old is new again, I guess,” she cups her manicured hand over her mouth to disguise her words. “You think they’ll leave together? I was shocked when she told me they haven’t hooked up even once since they split.”

Sierra shakes her head firmly. “They’re both too stubborn to admit they want even that from each other,” she rolls her eyes. “You should’ve seen how nervous she was to come here tonight.”

“Oh, Ash too,” Crystal whispers. “Ever since we planned this, Michael must’ve gotten at least 5 texts from him casually trying to find out if she was coming.”

Sierra sips her drink, never taking her eyes off your table. “It ended so badly, I can’t get over how comfortable they are with each other… there’s still just so much love there.”

Crystal shrugs. “Well god bless them but think of how long it took them to actually get together,” she points out. “I wouldn’t hold my breath for them to figure out that they called it off too soon.” 

You make light conversation with Ashton, trying to ignore the girls’ gabfest you see out of the corner of your eye; they were both supportive but clearly distraught when you told them about the breakup so you know they’ve got to be eating this up. 

Calum announces he’s stepping away for a cigarette and you and Ash pick at your plates in silence for a few minutes, suddenly feeling the weight of having to interact without a buffer. Finally, he offers up a quiet, “You’ve been good?”

You answer perhaps a little too quickly, nod perhaps a little too vigorously, eager to mask any implication of hurt feelings. “Yep. Busy. But good.”

He fiddles with the tablecloth. “You know... I meant to call sometime but it never felt right and then things got crazy with the band…”

“It’s fine,” you interrupt, shaking your head. “I didn’t check in either. Didn’t think you’d answer,” you laugh weakly.

He smiles and you hate how warm you feel at the sight. “Why did I always assume you were a ‘fuck that guy, delete his number as soon as you’re out the door’ kind of ex?”

Your heart sinks and you’re not sure why; it takes you a moment to realize it’s because this is the first time you’ve actually thought of yourself as “his ex.” You steady yourself. “Usually am. Decided to be mature on this one. You’re still at the top of my contacts. Listed under ‘Asshole,’ obviously,” you giggle.

“Ah, my favorite of your pet names,” he laughs along with you.

You talk for a few more minutes until Crystal makes her way over; Ash slips away while the two of you catch up and shortly after, you get a text from Luke asking if you’re ready to go. Your eyes scan the room though you aren’t sure what exactly you’re searching for, because you’re totally fine leaving without saying goodbye to Ashton. 

You're quiet on the ride back to Sierra and Luke’s and while you collect your things from their bedroom, she gently checks in.

“See, tonight wasn’t so bad,” she muses. 

“No, it was OK. Good to see everyone,” you shrug. “...Ash looks healthy.” 

“He looks good,” Sierra says pointedly. You say nothing. 

“You sure you’re good to drive?” Luke asks, coming into the room and sitting next to his girlfriend on the bed. “You know you’re always welcome to stay here.” 

“I’m fine, Luke,” you chuckle. You turn and hug them both. “I love you both, I’ll text when I’m home.” They respond by kissing the top of your head and you chuckle fondly as you leave. 

“They seemed OK tonight,” Luke mentions while they get ready for bed.

“They were more than OK, those stubborn kids couldn’t have been more into each other,” Sierra rants. “I think they really miss it, they just won’t admit it.”

“Oh, Ash definitely misses her. I swear, he talked about her less when they were together,” he jokes. Sierra raises an eyebrow, which Luke takes as encouragement to continue rambling about everything Ash had told him. “He knows they fought a lot but he even misses that... he’s been saying he’s glad he never told her he loved her, though. Things would’ve been a lot harder. Messier. I dunno, he’s always asking about her.”

You get home and drop your bag right inside the door with a huge, exhausted sigh and pull out your phone to text Luke and Sierra before heading to your room. You throw open the closet and it only takes you a couple seconds to spot what you’re looking for: that hoodie that Ash left behind and you never bothered to return. 

You stare at it for a beat and then leave to wash your face and brush your teeth; you already know what you’re about to do but you still try to talk yourself out of it. Back in the bedroom, you reluctantly grab the hoodie off of its hanger, change into it and climb into bed. You hold the sleeves to your face and breathe Ashton in; long, deep breaths, letting his smell fill your nostrils. You’ve done this more times than you’d care to admit these past few months; you miss him here, in your space. You curl in a ball and drift off, taking comfort in his scent surrounding you. 

You’re woken up early by your phone buzzing on the nightstand. You see it’s Sierra and pick it up, groaning, making sure she can hear it. “S?”

“Hey babe… can we lunch?” She bubbles. 

“You couldn’t have texted?”

“Sorry, Sunshine, just wanted to hear your lovely voice… and get a definite answer out of you. 1 o’clock, don’t be late!” She sing-songs, hanging up. 

You check your notifications and your heart sinks, not seeing anything from Ashton. You weren’t sure why you thought you would. You curl up and go back to sleep for a while. 

Sierra knows you well enough to guess you fell back asleep without setting an alarm and she starts blowing you up around noon. You text that you’ll see her soon and you start getting ready. You use the most fragrant soap you can find for your shower, ensuring the smell of Ashton's cologne doesn't linger on your skin.

You walk into your usual lunch place and easily spot Sierra on the patio. "Drinks are on their way," she shares as you take your seat.

You chat breezily about the party: how good the food was, how Michael's DJ setup was so much more elaborate than at the last party you attended, how much you loved what Crystal had worn. You wonder out loud if Cal had gone home with the girl he'd been making eyes at all night and Sierra seizes the opportunity to steer the conversation to her topic of choice.

"Speaking of making eyes," she takes a prolonged sip from her glass. "Things seemed a little intense with Ash last night."

You give her a tight-lipped smile, determined not to give her anything she can blow out of proportion. "I told you it was fine. Easier than I expected in a lot of ways, harder in others."

She places her hand on your arm from across the table. "I looked over a few times and saw him with his arm over your chair, you watching him talk… it was like we were back at that resort again," she says wistfully.

You evaluate her face for a moment. Since she's one of your best friends, you're used to being lovingly annoyed with her meddling in your life but sometimes you forget that it comes from a place of genuine love and concern for you. "Regardless of how things turned out, I'll always be grateful you forced me to stay on that trip," you smile. "That was some once in a lifetime kind of shit."

"From what I heard down the hall, sure sounded like it," she teases, grinning as you playfully shoo her hand off your arm. "That anniversary's coming up quick, isn't it?"

"Next week," you blurt, wincing at how quickly you answer.

"We'll have to think of something fun to do together," she declares carefully. "Not that you need it, but just in case you don't want to be alone."

This time you reach over and squeeze her hand. "I'm sorry I haven't been around like I used to, S. I just… needed time," you admit. "It's still hard. Most of the time, actually. But being around you and Lu again feels good. I think I need the support more than I realized."

"Babe," she pouts. "We were there for you before Ash, during Ash and we want to be there for you post-Ash. We love you."

You feel better than you thought you would as you head back to your car. Being honest with Sierra - and yourself - was easier than you expected. You briefly think about texting Ash - nothing major, something chill like "fun catching up last night" - but think better of it.

Sierra gets to her car and immediately texts Crystal, who requested an update when she heard you were getting lunch. She suggests asking Cal’s perspective to get the full picture of where Ash is at, so Sierra calls him on the drive home. 

“Hey Sweet Boy!” She greets him. 

“Sierra!” She can hear the grin on his face at the nickname. “To what do I owe this pleasure?” 

“Well, I wanted to ask you how Ash is. I mean, I know what Luke tells me but I feel like he gives you more,” she explains. 

“How do you mean? You saw him last night?” 

“How has he been since the breakup?” She emphasizes. 

“Oh… OH!! Oh! What are you planning? Please tell me you’re doing something, he’s making me crazy. I don’t know what came over him last night,” Cal babbles. 

“I think Luke had a hand in that,” Sierra admits with a sigh. “She came over to get ready with me and I think he probably shared some things he shouldn’t have. You know how he is.”

“What’s in that beautiful brain of yours?” Cal murmurs, letting out an excited little laugh. Out of everyone, he tends to enjoy Sierra’s plans like this the most, especially when they aren’t directed toward him. 

“I don’t know yet… I feel like we just need to get them talking alone again like they were last night, remind them what was there...” she muses. She talks through a few ideas with Calum and he’s on board for any of them.

By the time she gets home, Sierra is raring to go; she practically runs up the stairs to ask Luke for his help.

“Hey hun!” He greets her with a smile when she raps on the door to his studio. He moves the guitar off his lap, silently inviting her to come lay on the couch while they talk. “How was lunch, how’s our girl?”

She fills him in on everything: your mood, your conversation and the consulting she’s been doing among the friend group. Luke seems interested but about halfway through becomes engrossed in his phone and Sierra sits up, irritated. “Babe, you asked, are you even listening?”

He briefly looks concerned and then grins. “Sorry, just distracted by Ash blowing up the group chat, asking if anyone wants to go away next week so he doesn’t have to deal with their anniversary,” he proudly holds up his phone.

Her jaw drops at the opportunity that’s fallen at their feet. “What if…” She starts furiously typing into her phone. “Yes… that house you guys stayed at when you were planning the last album is free.”

“Palm Springs? OK, so…” Luke trails off, trying to follow her logic.

“Band retreat for the boys. Self-care trip for the girls,” she answers, shooting off texts to Crystal, Mike and Cal. 

“That house really isn’t big enough for all of us,” he comments, still lost.

She finally looks up at him, smiling widely. “It’s a good thing they’ll be the only ones going, then.”

————-

Taglist is breaking the links in the post and I currently do not have the brainpower to figure out the problem lol. We’ll try again tomorrow but in the meantime, if you aren’t notified, you can always check the masterlist which will be updated everyday!

@mymindwide​​ @suchalonelysunflower​​​ @pxrxmoore​​ @loveroflrh​​ @ghostofmashton​​ @sexgodashton​​ @feliznavidaddycal​​  

@castaway-cashton​​ @ashtonlftv​​ @cashtonasfuck​​ @megz1985​​  @angelicfluffs​​ @findingliam-o​​ @youngbloodchild​​  @irwinsbetch​​ @everyscarisahealingplace​​

@wiildflower-xxx @metalandboybands  @realisticnotes  @makeamovehemmings @golden166​ @burstintocolor

​@youngblood199456​​​ @notinthesameguey​​​ @seanna313​​​  @zhangyixingxing1​​​ @stardust-galaxies​​​  @zackoid​​​

@lovelybonesetc​​​ @xsongxbirdx​​​ @justhereforcalum​​​   @ashtonangst​​

@laura66sos​​​ @calumrose​​​ @karajaynetoday​​​ ​​​ @jazzyangel242​​​ @babylon-corgis​​​  @heyheyhaleyd​​​ @calmsweetcreature​​​

@spicycal​​​ @talkfastromance4​​​  @holystxne​​​

@meetmedowntown​​​ @myloverboyash​​​

@irwindoll​​​​​​ @carrielfisher​​​ @lukedorkyhemmings​​​ @creampiecashton​​​ @lovelywordsblog​​​

@trix-arent-for-kids​ @uh-huhh-honey​ @tobefalling​ @aladyofalbion​ @likehuhdude​

@curlycalums​​​  @cxddlyash​​​  

@fedorable-killjoys​​​  @iamcalumswhore​​​   @i-like-5sos​​​  

@aquarius-hood1996​  @babylonashton​  

@begluketostay​   @mateisit-balsamic​​

@crazyforcal​​   @neso-k​​   @deliciouslydisturbed365​​  @blxndeprincess

[agentdouble0]

So I reblogged a post on my other blog about Bobby totally giving Buck a clipboard saying, “Here, go play”  And an idea popped up in my head. Now that I know that Bobby is secretly a child at heart: like the incident with Michael and the guy on the roof. It’s in my head that he likes to play jokes, gets excited about things and tries so hard to be the Captain. But he realizes sometimes it’s okay to let go and have fun.  Anyway, hands a clipboard to Buck and says, “here, go play”  I mean, you can’t tell me that at some point the list is something that totally isn’t fire station related.  It has been a long while since I’ve written. And this will be my first time writing a 911 Fox Fic and a Buck/Eddie one at that. Though there really isn’t a lot of Buddie in it. It wasn’t going to be, but I integrated them in the fic just ‘cause.   Anyway, read below the cut! 

      Clip Board Shenanigans                    It did not mean to turn into a joke or something for fun, at first it was the real deal but in Bobby’s defense Buck was a good influence, sort of. Bobby began delegating restocking responsibilities to Buck. He was very diligent in making sure the truck and the ambulance got what they needed for their next call. So, when the time for a total restock came up, he hands Buck the clipboard, and Buck yells a loud “Yes!” before he speeds off.  

               The only ones who didn’t seem to enjoy it as much were Chim, Hen, and Eddie, though Bobby suspects that Eddie doesn’t mind at all. The man can’t stop grinning like a fool anytime Buck says, “I’m sorry, it’s not yes, it’s check, get with it, Eddie.” The statement is usually followed with Eddie saying, “Dork” before kissing Buck on the cheek.

               He upgrades Buck to the storage closet when he sees the man’s sad face the day, he gave the clipboard to Hen instead of him. He sulked for thirty minutes but eventually moved on when Hen called to him for help. She was not as annoyed as she sought out to be. 

                “You spoil him,” Hen tells Bobby when he hands him the clipboard the next time the storage closet needs to be checked, only shrugs in response. It’s not his fault, Buck and Bobby have always walked that thin line of Bobby being a father figure to Buck. If he spoils his “son” no one needs to know. He can just say that Buck takes the job very seriously.  

             The next time the ambulance and engine need to be checked, Eddie ducks and hides. He usually loves helping Buck, but he heard Bobby tell him, “here, have fun.” Yeah, that was not happening. Buck pulls Chimney along with him towards the fire truck and ambulance. “No, wait!” Chimney says, “I don’t want-“ 

                Eddie waits till Chimney’s protest fade away and he can hear the clonking of footsteps on the stairs before he pops up behind the counter. “Nice one,” Hen, says from her spot on the couch, “although should I be concerned that you’re hiding from your boyfriend.” 

                “I wasn’t hiding,” Eddie protests, “I dropped something…” 

                “Sure,” Hen says, “what was it?”

                 “Look, I love him I do, but he takes that clipboard too damn seriously, if don’t say check he won’t let us move on,” Eddie answers, “And besides! I heard Bobby tell him, ‘here have fun!”  

                “He likes doing it-“Bobby doesn’t get to finish because there’s a loud yell downstairs from Chimney. Bobby smirks to himself, they must have gotten to the random part on the list. This was going to be great. Eddie and Hen rush over to the railing and peer down below to Chim waving his hands wildly and Buck smacking the clipboard with the back of his hand. “But it says it on the list Chim!”

             “Why the hell do we need granola bars in the truck!”

             “I don’t know, I’m just reading the list and it says it here on the clipboard.”

                “Give me the damn thing,” Chimney says as he grabs the clipboard from Buck’s hand, “I’m sure it…well I’ll be damn.”

                “See!” Buck exclaims reclaiming the list back, “Now, I’ll say it again granola bars?”

                Chimney mutters to himself as he stomps up the stairs and Eddie realizes too late that he should hide because Chimney spots him. “Diaz,” he growls, “go help your boyfriend before I kill him.”

                Eddie sighs as he grabs a box of granola bars before joining Buck downstairs. Hen eyes Bobby, who was not doing a particularly good job at hiding his laughter, because now Eddie is the one yelling. The next thing on the list was a cooler full of juice boxes.

                 It becomes a thing and Bobby is enjoying himself. Buck hasn’t caught on just yet because he keeps it small, and he doesn’t do it all the time, it would raise more suspicions amongst the other firefighters. Buck begins to suspect something is up when Bobby adds, bells and bay leaves to the list. Bobby has an excuse though after someone else had let slipped the Q word, it wouldn’t hurt to try it the next time they were jinxed. 

                No one else wants to help Buck after he reads off, fruit snacks the next time the truck needs to be restocked. Because they had to go to the store to buy them, and they had to go back again when they got the wrong brand. So, Bobby has to assign Eddie the job and he quite enjoys the fond look that he gives to Buck every time.  

               “Buck,” Eddie says, “I don’t think we need a cooler full of ice cream sandwiches.”

              “I thought the same thing, but it's on the list.”

              “Okay, even if we put it in a cooler, it will melt.”

              “Hey, food is food, I’ll still eat ‘em!” 

              “Oh dios mio” Eddie mutters

              “Don’t oh my god me,” Bucks says, and he taps the clipboard, “Chop, chop babe!”

              “Fine, I’ll be back.”

              It comes to a head and Bobby’s joke is revealed when he hands Buck the clipboard on a particular ‘Q’ word day. Buck grabs it, pen already in hand as the captain tells him, “Here, go play.”

             “I’m sorry what?”

             “Go Buck,” Bobby says 

             Eddie is already eyeing him warily, “Bobby” 

            “Go, Eddie”

           Buck ignores him as begins walking towards the staircase, flipping through the list. He knows that Buck has found the page of reward stickers when he hears Buck yell, “Oh my god! This is going to be awesome!”

          “Bobby,” Eddie says again, not liking how Buck stops at the top of the stairs case, with a big grin on his face.

        “Eddie! Buck calls, “Come on! Let’s go!”

         “Bye Eddie,” Bobby says

        Eddie isn’t amused at all as Buck goes around the station placing gold stars on everyone’s lockers. But mutters check after the deed is done, and he has no idea what this list even is when they go and check out the fire extinguishers. Because really, they just did that last week. They also already checked the batteries in the smoke detectors. He isn’t amused when they are back at the lockers again when Buck is placing a silver stark on the locker that he owns. Though he begins laughing his ass off when Buck happily places a sticker on Chim’s forehead saying, “Place the ‘Thumb’s Up” Sticker with the cow On Chimney’s forehead.”

      “Check!” Eddie laughs 

                He continues following Buck and is even more amused when he places a sticker on Hen’s arm. The word ‘brilliant’ on it with a cartoon bee. He’s no longer amused when five items later, Buck is placing a sticker on his chest with the words, ‘Nailed It!’ with a cartoon cat.

              “Yeah, no,” Eddie says.

             “No, the word is check,” Buck says big grin on his face, “See, I placed the Nailed it Sticker with the cartoon cat on Eddie’s chest.”

              Eddie groans but then Buck is in his space, tilting his head down and resting their foreheads together. And Eddie can’t even be upset at the sticker because Buck just feels so damn happy. Now he understands why Bobby did what he did. They had a rough call a couple of days and it was so nice to see Buck happy rather than sad and forced smiles. He inhales deeply and sighs dramatically, “Fine, check”

                Then Buck is skipping away and Eddie follows after him, because while he is enjoying whatever they’ve been doing all afternoon. He’s not sure how the rest of the team will react when he places the remaining stickers on their person. Turns out everyone else enjoys the stickers as well. Looks like they all needed a pick me up.

         Later when they are getting ready to get off their shift, Eddie produces a sticker from his back pocket and places it on Buck’s chest. Buck pulls at his shirt and looks down, “This made me smile,” he reads aloud, his face beaming as looks at Eddie.

         Eddie then leans in and places a gentle kiss on Buck’s lips, “Cheering Buck up, check.”

[theladyofdeath]

Scary Movies {Elorcan}

31 Days of Halloween: Day 11.

All installments co-written with @snelbz​

Based on a prompt sent in by anon: “ever since we were kids its been our tradition to binge watch horrible scary movies on halloween, go get the popcorn ready, wait this is much scarier than I remember, hold me”

Autumn/Halloween 2020 {Collection}

Elide looked at her coffee table and smiled. Pizza, popcorn, red vines, and beer. It was the same food, every year, except Coke had eventually turned into alcohol. 

A tradition.

Elide’s favorite of the entire year. 

It had started in middle school, when they decided that they were too old and cool for trick-or-treating. A scary movie, they took turns deciding. Between getting terrified and getting stomach aches from all they consumed, it created a magical evening.

Now, ten years after their first scary movie night on Halloween, Elide was hosting, and Lorcan was running late.

She looked at the clock on her apartment wall and sighed. If he didn’t show up soon, she’d call him, and yell at his ass.

Elide was on her way back from the back bedroom, having grabbed a couple of blankets from the spare room’s closet when a knock came on her door. She slowed and came to a stop.

Lorcan had a spare key, he could— and would— just let himself in. Not to mention, she’d left it unlocked for him. That realization left her all the more wary with what time of night it was.

Making her way over to her door, Elide reached up on her tiptoes to look out the peephole and she saw—

Nothing.

There was nothing and no one in the breezeway.

Cautiously, Elide opened the door and as she took a step out—

Heavy boots stomped on the concrete next to her as someone jumped out and yelled quietly.

The scream that left Elide was decidedly not quiet.

She threw the blankets up and when her heart rate had decelerated enough that she could breathe, she found Lorcan doubled over, hands on his knees, laughing his ass off.

“Not funny, asshole,” she muttered, not stopping to pick up the blankets.

“Very funny, actually,” he said, taking a deep breath as he righted himself and followed her into the apartment.

“I thought you were a…” Elide’s words trailed off as she shook her head.

She was flustered.

“A what?” Lorcan asked, still grinning as he snatched up the blankets and carried them inside. “A late trick or treater? A murderer? If I was a murderer, I wouldn’t come here on Halloween, El. Way too cliché.”

Her lips pursed together as she shut the door.

And locked it.

Lorcan kicked off his boots just inside of the door before passing into the living room and whistling at her set up.

“You’ve spoiled me,” he said, falling back into her couch. “Now I almost feel bad for scaring the shit out of you.”

“You should,” Elide pushed. “I’m almost thinking about tossing the red vines.”

Lorcan’s grin faded. “Don’t you dare.”

She couldn’t stay mad at him, not if she tried, so instead she flopped down next to him, tucking her Halloween-themed, Boo! fuzzy socks underneath her. “Alright, house rules apply. What movies did you bring?”

Once they got their own places, they added a few more nuanced rules to the list. The person who’s house the movie was at got to make the final decision, but the other got to pick the three choices.

Lorcan ticked them each off on a finger as he named them. “The new It, the original Halloween, or Teeth?”

“Not It,” Elide said, shaking her head vehemently. “And you’re an asshole for putting it in the lineup.”

An unfortunate incident at a county fair had scarred Elide for life and now she was terrified of not only clowns, but also the Tilt-A-Whirl and she couldn’t eat cotton Candy anymore. It was a long story and Lorcan knew every second of it, because he’d been there, laughing his ass off then, too.

Lorcan chuckled and said, “Fine, not It.”

“And we watched Teeth when we were like fifteen. I was convinced you weren’t ever going to look at a vagina the same.”

“My fifteen-year-old boy hormones overrode the horror very quickly,” he chuckled. “So Halloween?”

“Halloween,” she agreed. “Put it in.”

“So demanding,” he mumbled, but did as she asked, nonetheless.

He was sitting back beside her as the menu played in no time. After selecting play, he had a beer and his red vines open. 

“Don’t get too scared,” Lorcan muttered, mouth full of candy. “I want you to be able to sleep tonight. Remember, it’s just a movie.”

Elide nudged him with her foot, fluffy sock and all. “Shut up.”

He grinned, unable to control himself. “Don’t you remember our first scary movie night?”

Elide groaned. “Don’t remind me.”

“You nearly pissed yourself,” he said, reminding her, anyway.

Elide scoffed. “I screamed once.”

“And cried twice and begged me to turn it off,” he said, chuckling.

“Why am I friends with you?” She muttered, snuggling back into the blankets and pillows, propping her feet up on the couch. The bottoms of her feet pressed up against his sweatpants-covered thigh.

Lorcan didn’t say anything else, just quietly laughed to himself as he leaned over and turned the lamp off, plunging the room into near darkness.

The beginning of the movies were never scary to Elide, even if the killing started out right away. At the beginning, she could still tell herself it was just a movie. It was as the movie went on, when she found herself immersed in it, that she began to get nervous.

That nervousness continued as she laid awake in the middle of the night, alone. 

Every few minutes, she glanced over at Lorcan. At one point, his eyelids were drooping, and she had no idea how he could be relaxed during such a suspenseful film.

Elide had just cracked open her third beer when Lorcan mumbled, “Crying yet?”

“No, jackass,” she muttered, sipping from the can and clinging to her blanket. She couldn’t help but glance at her living room windows to make sure no one was standing just outside.

Elide didn’t realize just how buzzed she was until she stood to use the restroom. She took one unsteady step before Lorcan paused the movie. “Where are you going?”

“I’ve just got to run to the bathroom, you can let it play,” she replied.

“No, I can’t,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “You’ll miss something.”

“I’ve seen it,” she replied, chuckling.

“Yeah, but we haven’t seen it together. That’s a crucial point.”

She rolled her eyes and said, “Fine, I’ll be right back.”

She heard him get up and rifle through her kitchen cabinets, probably looking for something else sweet. As if the entire pack of red vines he’d already consumed wasn’t enough.

When she came back though, she paused. He was in her spot, with his feet propped up, looking like he didn’t have a care in the world as he drank a beer.

Elide cleared her throat.

“Hmm?”

“You’re in my spot,” she said, hands on her hips.

Lorcan looked over at her, one brow raised. “We have spots, now?”

“I’ve always sat in that spot literally every time you have ever come over here. Which is a lot.”

Lorcan shrugged. “I figured we could change it up a bit. I have longer legs. I should be able to stretch my legs out.”

“Your legs are practically hanging off,” Elide protested.

Lorcan blinked. “Not the point.”

With a loud, dramatic sigh, Elide was stumbling back over to the couch.

Lorcan snorted. “You’re drunk.”

“I'm not drunk.”

“How many beers have you had?”

She paused. “A few.”

Lorcan’s grin widened. “You’re drunk.” 

“Am not.”

“Had to get drunk to make it through the scary movie, huh?” he teased. 

Elide was caught between saying am not and fuck you, and her statement ended up coming out as, “Fuck not.” 

Lorcan tossed his head back against the cushions as he laughed. “Drunk Elide has arrived.” 

She sat down in his spot and kicked her feet up on his lap. She was expecting him to shove them off or make a joke about them stinking or something else classically Lorcan. So when he gently took one in his hand and began massaging it, she stopped paying attention to a single thing happening in the movie.

His hands on her were enough to cause that, and if she could just—

A scream rang out from the tv and Elide gasped, turning her attention back to the movie, as Jamie Lee Curtis tried to out run Michael Meyers.

When Elide looked back over at Lorcan, he was looking decidedly smirky.

“Fuck off,” she muttered.

“Don’t you mean fuck not?” he asked, those hands still massaging her sore ankle. 

Elide hated herself for smiling at him. Hated that she loved the way he was smiling at her. She hated his little jokes and snide remarks. Hated that his massages felt so damn good.

The movie on the screen continued, and Elide had found Lorcan’s hands on her ankle incredibly interesting as the tense music played loudly from the surround sound speakers.

Soon enough, the movie was over and Elide was wondering how an hour and a half slipped by so quickly.

“Do you want to watch another?” She asked, as he stood and stretched. “Since it’s a Saturday and everything.”

That smirk was still in place, but she could see a softness in his eyes. “Can you handle another two hours of sheer terror?”

“I wasn’t that scared,” she mumbled, crossing her arms.

Lorcan only grinned and flopped back on the couch, laying out and cracking open another beer.

She rolled her eyes before turning on Cabin In the Woods, and making her way back over to to the couch. “Where exactly am I supposed to sit now?” She asked, pointing to where his feet were in her vacated seat. His entire frame barely fit on her couch.

He wiggled his sock covered toes. “My turn for a foot massage.” He winked at her.

She scrunched her nose. “I don’t wanna touch your feet.”

He pretended to be offended. “And why is that?”

“Your feet are gross.” She chuckled as she sat on top of his shins. “They stink.”

“They do not. They’re cute as fuck and smell like roses.”

Elide giggled. “You keep thinking that. They stink, and they’re massive.”

“What does their size have to do with them?” he laughed. “Isn’t size a good thing? You know what they say about big feet.” 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she said, amused as she shook her head.

Lorcan didn’t say anything else, just wiggled his feet free from under her and drank his beer. When he finished, he stood and started collecting the cans.

“What are you doing?” She asked.

He shrugged. “We killed a twelve pack. I’m going to get the rest of the beer out of the fridge.”

Elide rolled her eyes, but she resituated and got comfortable on the couch. When Lorcan returned, he handed her a fresh drink and sat down in the middle of the couch. His arm was draped over the back of the couch, his hand right behind Elide’s head. He began to play with strands of hair coming out of the back of her ponytail.

Elide had to resist the urge to purr.

He handed her another full can.

She didn’t hesitate as she took it, popped it open, and downed it. She hated the taste of beer, but as the night went on, she tasted it less and less. 

Lorcan continued to play with her hair.

Elide had no idea what was going on in the movie, but she didn’t care, and wasn't scared at all as Lorcan continued to play with her hair. 

To her surprise, he let her relax, didn’t try to scare her, didn’t try to tease her, not anymore. The movie was about half way done when Elide looked over at him to find him already watching her. 

“What?” she laughed, quietly. 

“You like me playing with your hair,” he whispered, and he wore no smile. 

“Maybe,” she admitted.

“I’ve been playing with your hair for thirty minutes,” he continued. 

“I noticed,” she said, her voice small as she tried to concentrate, tried to notice if she was slurring her words or not. 

She sure as hell couldn’t tell if he was.

They’d danced around this for years, the feelings they had for each other, the other never seeming to return the feelings that they had. Everyone else constantly gave them shit for not just being together.

Elide always touted off the same response about Lorcan not looking at her that way. What she didn’t know is that he always said she deserved better than a bastard.

She tried to look back at the movie to concentrate on who was on screen, what was happening, but those lithe fingers just kept slipping through the strands.

And then her hair came loose, as he pulled the ponytail out of it and flicked it at her.

“Hey!” She cried, looking for it in the piles and piles of blankets.

Lorcan only looked at her, a self-satisfied look on his face. “What are you thinking?” 

Elide stilled. “What do you mean?”

“You were thinking something, I could see it,” he followed. “What was it?”

“Nothing,” she replied, a little too quickly. 

“Nothing?” he asked, one brow raised. “Liar.”

“Am not.”

“You just don’t want to tell me.”

“And if I don’t?” Elide asked.

He was grinning. “You’re drunk.”

“So?” she asked.

His grin faded. “What were you thinking, El?”

That we should get over ourselves and see what we could be. “That I have no idea what’s going on in this movie.” 

“Neither do I,” he admitted, his voice quiet.

His eyes were on her mouth. When she bit down on her bottom lip, his nostrils flared slightly and he wet his own lips. She breathed, “Are you staring at my lips?”

If it weren’t for the alcohol in her veins, she never would have had the nerve to ask. He nodded once.

“And what are you thinking?” She asked, quietly.

“You have nice lips,” he confessed.

Elide hesitated. “I have nice lips?”

He nodded, once, yet again. 

“Interesting,” she said, when he said no more, her voice remaining small. 

“Interesting?” he repeated.

“Interesting,” she agreed. 

They both stared at one another, the movie playing quietly in the background. It was strange, how Elide’s heart was beating uncontrollably throughout the screams and shrieks from the t.v. screen, but not from fear.

Not at all from fear. 

From exhilaration, from disbelief, from wondering if she was picking up the wrong ques. 

“You’re still looking at my lips,” she said. 

“You’re looking at mine now,” was his response.

He was right, of course. She was.

After a second, she cleared her throat and looked back to the television, but she could still feel his gaze on her from time to time.

During one of the bloodiest scenes she’d ever seen, Lorcan suddenly paused the movie. “Do you hear that?”

Elide snorted. “I’m not falling for that.”

“I’m serious,” he said, looking behind them, towards the window. “You don’t hear that?”

The tone of his voice was unsettling. She pulled her feet up onto the couch, even though she had no idea what he was hearing. She couldn’t hear anything. “This isn’t funny, Lor. Stop it.”

He quickly got up and went to the front door, making sure it was locked, before looking out the window. Elide’s heart was racing. She still hadn’t heard anything, he hadn’t-.

“Oh gods, I was right,” he said, hurrying back to the couch.

She was pretty sure she was going to have a panic attack. “What is it?”

“It’s the… the…” He swallowed harshly and looked at her. “The tickle monster.”

“Damn it Lor-.”

He was flying to her side of the couch and tickling her sides, making her squirm, making her laugh, making her scream before she could even finish her sentence. 

“Lorcan!” She cried, trying to push him away, but he was massive and when he was on a tickle mission, he was going to see it through.

“Lorcan!” She said, again, getting a good hit on his chest this time.

Lorcan’s laugh was contagious, his smile bright, and it wasn’t until Lorcan’s fingers stopped dancing along her sides that Elide realized how they were laying.

He was on top of her, his chest across her legs, his head just above her waist. His body wasn’t completely pressed up against her, but it was pressed up enough.

His fingers sat on her bare skin, her shirt having just barely ridden up during his onslaught of tickles, and her skin felt like it was on fire where he touched her. Sitting that close, she swore she could see bits of blue in the depth of his black eyes. His thumb began to rub a slow circle over her hip.

She sat up, at the same time and when he pulled her closer, she breathed his name.

They were close.

It wasn’t that she had never been close to him, but this was a different kind of close. She could feel his warm, alcohol-scented breath on her lips.

Lorcan.

Her Lorcan.

Her best friend.

The movie was still playing, Elide was certain, but she couldn’t see it, couldn’t hear it.

There was nothing in the world except for him.

“You’re drunk,” Lorcan whispered.

“So are you,” Elide agreed.

Lorcan nodded, slowly, his nose nearly brushing along hers. “Yeah.”

And then he was kissing her, slowly, gently.

She didn’t hesitate, her lips moving against his as if they were made for each other. One of her hands gripped his arm, they other still pressed against his chest and she bunched the fabric up in her hands.

A scream from the tv had them pulling apart and both breathing heavily as they looked at each other.

Elide breathed, “You know, if you were scared, all you had to do was say so.”

Lorcan looked at her for a moment before tipping his head back and laughing. 

[calpops]

falling facade | c.h.

part eight: falling fractures

part one: falling flowers | part two: falling freedom | part three: falling fears | part four: falling failures | part five: falling fame | part six: falling feelings | part seven: falling forces

5k words

Copyright © 2020 calpops. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format (translations included).

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Weeks passed since the kiss on the curb between Calum and Arden. Silent bliss and secrets shrouded them and all that they had come to figure out. Any and all time spent together was real and falling felt like passing through clouds and tasted sweeter than ever. Only a slight bite of guilt followed with Michael’s gazes that screamed unanswerable questions. They tried to play it lowkey in front of him but with the engagement already in motion and those not in the know passing in and out  the act fell on a thin wire; lines and realities were crossed. They often got away, stayed at Calum’s with the complete privacy his place offered. When they had no choice but to cross paths and realities it was closed doors and dark shadows that allowed them to be real with each other and explore each other through the new dynamic of their relationship.

A band milestone called for celebration and worlds to collide. Calum picked up Arden and savored every moment in the shadows of the car before they entered Ashton’s where the party was already well underway. They blended in with the crowd and played all the parts they needed to for those surrounding them. Calum kept a casual arm around her to suggest their relationship but not be explicit and obvious. Loud music, lack of lighting and the large crowd provided an easy and unnoticed escape once formalities and greetings took place. They waved to Michael and played it cool, moved through the crowd and found a piece of quiet solace. Calum knew Ashton’s house just as well as his own.

A spare room provided them with privacy and a place to wander and continue exploring. With the lights low and Arden’s back pressed to the wall, finding sweetness and breathing her in—focusing solely on her as the party faded behind them—became second nature. After weeks of becoming more and more intimate and familiar with one another Calum’s hands glided down her body and settled at her waist, his lips roamed her skin and kissed softly down her neck, a sigh he now knew and adored escaped her as his teeth lightly grazed supple skin. Her fingers carded through his curls and their bodies pressed closer together, her right leg came up to wrap around him, his left hand found way under her thigh to support her.

“Cal,” she murmured, voice low and laced with hazy desire. Calum made a noise of acknowledgement and continued to kiss her. “Don’t leave a mark. Michael might see.”

The reminder pulled Calum back and stopped him short. He looked up and found hazel in the dim light, a plea to keep secrets off her skin settled in the way she looked at him. Eyelashes fluttered and her lip pouted. Calum nodded his understanding, gave her a chaste kiss on the lips and sighed.

“It’s probably not a good night for this, huh?” He asked and she tilted her head to the side as if to communicate she was unsure. Her leg dropped from his hold and his hand wound up on the wall beside her instead. “The band has promo this week and I think everyone is gonna expect you to be there for some of it.”

“Yeah,” she confirmed. “Without a hickey, probably. Michael would either assume the truth or think it was someone else. I don’t know which would be worse.”

Calum arched an eyebrow at her before dipping down to give one last kiss to the curve of her neck. He smiled into her skin and lingered for just a moment. He felt her ease against him and knew they were both wishing the circumstances were different. When he looked back up she was biting her lip and looking at the ceiling.

“We have to tell him eventually,” she said out of nowhere and Calum heard the guilt in her tone. “Tell everyone all of the truths, actually. It’s getting really hard to keep up—but it doesn’t feel like it should be anyone else’s to know.”

Calum brushed his fingertips along her jaw and encouraged her to look back down at him. When she did he could see the distress written clearly on her face even in the shadows.

“We can tell when we’re ready. We can start with the first truth. To our parents,” Calum suggested and watched as Arden visibly relaxed at the weight that would be lifted from their shoulders.

“How mad do you think they’ll be?”

Calum shrugged. “Won’t matter, it’s management’s fault for roping us into it. I think they would have taken a drunken joke over a forced contract. They’ll be more upset about that than anything.”

“And then we’ll tell Michael?”

“If you want,” Calum confirmed and reminded himself all of the truths were contingent on her comfortability. He liked having her to himself and keeping the new dynamic to their relationship under wraps. But if it was eating at her, if she asked him to come clean, then he would. He’d go at her pace and hopefully be able to hold her hand through it all.

She let out a breath and casted her gaze to the door. “Let’s give it a little more time. Should we get back out there before it seems suspicious?”

“Suspicious to who? Almost everyone here thinks we’re engaged,” Calum laughed and made Arden roll her eyes at the absurdity of their situation. “Michael knows we have to play it up sometimes.”

She grinned and leaned in for one more kiss, one last tousle of his curls and wandering hand exploring him. They hadn’t gone much further than what they’d done tonight, but taking it slow and learning each and every curve of each other was a journey Calum was happy to be on.

***

Arden’s first experience with band promotion came on the backs of a single they were hoping for success with. They were carted from radio station to television set, from green room to dressing room and hallways and sound booths. In between the chaos Calum always sought her out. In front of the different teams he held her hand and the band backed them up by playing it natural. Luke and Ashton proved useful, always having something to say about them or being a good way to divert to something else. Michael played his part as well as he could, tried his best to be a believable protective brother and trusting friend that was happy for both of them. The cliche jokes and warnings of what Michael would do if Calum ever hurt her felt a little too real and a bit unsettling as Michael’s eye contact didn’t waver.

The week dragged during the days Arden couldn’t be around for the interviews; her job at the gallery kept her occupied, but Calum wouldn’t have it any other way. As much as he wanted her there to break up the boredom and be able to bask in the irony of their “fake” relationship he knew her time was better spent figuring out her dreams. Management wasn’t entirely pleased she wasn’t attending every session to just be a shadow in the background or a tag on social media but for the lack of her presence the questions heightened tenfold. He knew management approved the questions beforehand—possibly even wrote them and handed them over—and that he had to answer them. On days when Arden was there he could keep an eye on her as he talked through his answers, pick up on subtle clues hidden in her body language as to whether she was okay with his explanations or not.

When she was able to go and downtime plagued them between sets they found a rhythm to sneaking away or hiding in plain sight. Closets and corners became havens for their reality and subtleties screamed truths in the faces of those that didn’t know. They could get away with hand holding and his arm around her in front of Michael. When they could get away from him they were bound to explore and cross lines they never had before. Hushed words and needy sighs highlighted secret desires in the dark. Those times sent thrills through Calum. But it was the softer moments that stayed with him.

Afternoon sunlight spilled through windows in the green room and an unusual quiet settled around them. Their team was busy out in the hall, Ashton was running late and Luke was manning the hall waiting for him. Calum and Arden were able to sit close as a guise for the facade and Michael didn’t bat an eye at it. When he left for the bathroom Arden moved after him, watched him walk out the door and down the hall a way before turning back to Calum and closing the green room door. A small smile tugged at the corners of her lips and she slowly walked back over to him where he was waiting with open arms. She settled against him, more fully and intimately than before, tucked her chin into the crook of his shoulder and he felt her breath on his neck as his arms wound around her.

“I’ve missed you,” she said and Calum smirked.

“I’ve been right here all day,” he reminded her and carded his fingers through her hair.

“It’s not the same when everyone else is around,” she admitted with a faint blush and buried her face further against him. Modesty was becoming of her and made Calum warm. “There’s too many things to keep up with. We can’t just be us. I miss you.”

Calum agreed with her words but didn’t vocalize it. He just kept runnings his fingers through her hair and let out a small huff. He let himself enjoy the moment. The week had been so busy and contrived it was rare to find such a peaceful interaction. It was the last day of promo in the area and Calum couldn’t be more thankful. A plan to end out the week formed in his mind in an instant. He wanted to top all of the fake off with something real; put everything back into balance.

“You wanna get away tonight?”

Arden shifted to look up at him with questioning eyes.

“We could go to the diner,” he suggested, knowing it was one of their places they had no fear of being themselves. “Or the beach.”

Arden hummed as she thought it over and lightly tapped her fingertips to his chest before settling back against him and hiding her face. “No. I just wanna go home—I mean your place—so we can be alone.”

The smile that formed on Calum’s face couldn’t be contained, he was elated to know his place was synonymous with home for her. Especially when she despised the city his house resided in. In the back of his mind and in the forefront of his heart he knew it wasn’t the city or the house that made her feel that way. It was him. And she did the same. She made cold ocean water and flashing cameras and a stranger’s wedding and a Vegas hotel feel like home. He cherished those places and moments with everything he had and everything she had come to give him.

The rotation of the doorknob had them springing back into a more casual position, but when an assistant walked in instead of Michael or Luke or Ashton they both caught their breaths and settled. Close calls were becoming second nature. Anxiety lingered around every opening door and watchful eye. Calum couldn’t wait to be home where they could finally be alone and themselves without inhibitions and fears of what would be coming around the corner. The assistant told Calum he was needed on set, that Ashton had finally made it and the others were already headed over. Calum gave Arden a quick goodbye kiss figuring the assistant wouldn’t think too much of it with the ring on Arden’s finger and all the chatter of the engagement. That was one of few silver linings inside the chaos they were living. The ring gave reasons when they weren’t ready to share their own.

Calum went through the motions for the interview: relied on his band mates to pick up his slack and sense that he wasn’t all together and comfortable with where some of the questions headed. Michael easily slipped in and broke it up, Ashton and Luke helped to diffuse the situation. When the day and the week of promo was finally over and they were all headed home it came as a small surprise to Michael that Arden chose to go with Calum instead of him.  They chalked it up to needing a new game plan for their next paparazzi stunt. After a moment Michael seemingly understood and bid them both goodbye. But once they were back to Calum’s—in Arden’s words home—the last thing on their minds was the stunt. Everything became real again the instant they stepped through the door. Pretenses and theatrics were left outside. The couch called their names and had them settling in.

Calum had no fear in pulling Arden close, nearly completely on top of him. Bodies rested as one and small talk came easily. Arden went on about her job at the gallery and Calum had pride on the tip of his tongue the entire time but stayed quiet to let her speak. He didn’t know who else she had told, if her family knew and could also sing their praises for her path. So Calum always picked up the slack and reminded her of the admiration he had for her and all she achieved.

“You know,” Calum finally spoke when she lapsed into silence. “I’m still waiting on an Arden original; don’t tell me you haven’t thought about getting back into painting after all the time at the gallery.”

Arden shifted. “You’re still on that, huh?”

“Of course. I’ve got a blank wall just waiting for your art.”

Arden hummed with good humor and shook her head, Calum could feel the motion against his chest and the vibration of her voice as she tucked herself closer into him.

“I’ll have to see what I can do,” she half promised and Calum nodded, only wanting to remind her, not push or prod or dull any spark that may have come back. “It’d be a shame to let that wall space go to waste.”

Calum agreed and let them slip back into blissful silence. The rest of the night was filled with quiet conversation and so easily them that when morning came neither batted an eye. They had stayed up all night, comfortable enough on the couch and in each other’s arms to the point they didn’t move to the bedroom. It was the gallery that separated them, Calum making Arden coffee before he dropped her off and leaving her with one last gaze he hoped spoke of his pride and adoration for her. She bid him goodbye with a smile and kiss on the cheek; something much more substantial and heart thumpingly real than just a brush of her lips from a whispered thank you. It was sweet and soft and innately Arden.

***

Real time spent together fell apart in the face of another stunt. A more invasive and public walk through the cameras. Calum could feel Arden’s anxiety the day leading up to their first night walk, he noted the wiggle of her legs and the distant look to hazel that had him worried. He wouldn’t leave her side during the entrance to the club, wouldn’t let the paparazzi get more of her than necessary and would do his best to keep her comfortable. But the uneasiness she exudes was starting to follow him, to form a pit in his stomach and make him need to call to action. He texted Ashton and asked him to go with them hoping that it may take some heat and interest off of them. He explained it to him and Ashton didn’t hesitate, even offered to drive.

Calum sat in the backseat with Arden and felt the tension was so palpable it nearly choked him. She was tense and staring out the tinted window. Paparazzi lingered on the curb near the entrance. The night was dark but the flashing of cameras would be bright enough to light their way. Ashton drummed his hands on the steering wheel, not accustomed to the build up and time it took for Arden to be okay with diving head first into these situations.

“We just need a minute,” Calum explained and Ashton nodded, eyes squinted inquisitively as he took in the situation in the back, probably realizing the anxiety that was swelling, the panic that was rising and the attempt to calm it.

“There’s a lot more out there than usual,” Arden whispered and finally looked back at Calum. He could see the panic pooling in her eyes and the stiff motions that accompanied her every move. “It’s terrifying.”

“I’ll be right there with you,” Calum murmured and wished they had driven alone, wished he could say and do more to comfort her without Ashton sneaking glances in the review mirror. “It’s a quick walk in. We stay for just a while and it’s another quick walk out. It’ll be okay.”

Calum knew making that promise was risky. He had his own run-ins that hadn’t been so okay, where they got a little too in his face and said something a little too reactionary. Sometimes he threw up the middle finger so the photos couldn’t be used in magazines, sometimes he said four letter words that maybe only called more attention to him. He would have to stay subtle and be quick with Arden at his side. The paparazzi needed no more incentive to get rowdy tonight.

“We don’t have to stay long?” She asked with hope in her tone and hand reaching out for him that faltered when she remembered Ashton was in the front. Calum shook his head.

“Half an hour. Get in, they can get their shots, get out and they can get a few more,” he said. He took a glance out the window and pulled his sunglasses from the neckline of his shirt, gently placed them on Arden’s face and gave her a small smile. “These will help.”

“I didn’t think to bring mine. Are you sure you don’t want yours?”

“It’s fine,” Calum soothed and reached for the door handle, Ashton taking the hint and doing the same. “Ready?”

Arden slightly nodded past a sigh and scooted out just behind him, Calum being hyper aware to keep her shielded. A customary arm went around her and she hid her face against him, the walk was short and successful—as easy as it possibly could have been. Only a few remarks were made. Having Ashton walk in with them was a surprise and a good separation. Music was blasting upon their entry. Arden was glued to Calum’s side as they walked to their reserved seating in the VIP area. A few of their friends within the industry were at the table and gave head nods as greeting or small waves as introductions to Arden. It was convenient to have them around, much easier to explain to Ashton why they sat so close and acted like a couple so naturally.

“Wasn’t so bad right?” Calum asked, dipping down to be near her so she’d have a chance at hearing and hoping no one else would. The music was a bit faded where they sat but still poured through the club with resounding bass lines.

Arden shrugged. “Not as bad as I thought. Not as easy as usual.”

Calum rubbed her back—recalled a time when they sat on a bench outside the band’s management’s office and he had done the same—hoping it would help her relax. She was still a bit shaken but a calm was coming down, put a bit of color back into her face and loosened her movement as she melted into his touch, rested her head on his shoulder and finally took the sunglasses off her face. Calum’s friends didn’t bat an eye at the affection but Ashton raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest. A lump formed in Calum’s throat and burned without remorse at the questioning stance Ashton took up. Apparently, the game wasn’t as obvious to him. Calum would have some explaining to do.

Time slipped by and Calum could sense how uncomfortable Arden was getting. She wasn’t used to the noise and the drunken people that swarmed around them in droves. She wasn’t a party person and when she was she usually snuck away to find some solace and quiet; to a place like the side of a house where the stars were her only company. Half an hour felt like seconds to Calum but with the bounce of Arden’s leg under the table and the restless grip she kept on his hand he knew it was starting to feel like an eternity for her. He could guess she was dreading the walk back to the car, that she might be assuming the worst to make up for the ease in which they entered the establishment.

She sidled up closer to his side, pressed so completely against him it would have been almost impossible for him to not hear her whispered request. “Can we leave yet?”

He couldn’t refuse the simple want. He couldn’t deny that he was craving some alone time with her as well. Her words from days earlier rang true. When other people were around they really couldn’t be themselves. It was always more reserved or less authentic in some way. Pieces of them were always hidden to someone’s watching eyes. Calum caught Ashton’s attention and made a motion toward the doors. Ashton understood the nonverbal communication and quite possibly the desperation for escape clouding Arden.

They bid their goodbyes quickly and headed for the door, Arden slipping the sunglasses back on and gripping Calum’s hand with renewed anxiety. Before they were out the doors Calum could sense the energy outside had shifted. Flashes bombarded them before the doors shut, more paparazzi had gathered, a crowd forming and circling them—almost cornering them back into the club. Ashton took up the lead and Calum appreciated it with his entire being; used himself to help shield Arden and push through those that got too close to them; got too invasive with her. Calum lost sight of Ashton and could only hope he would get to the car and bring it to them in the midst and the thick of the swarm.

“Cal,” Arden’s voice barely made it to him as the jostling and the unnecessary comments began.

In one heart thumping moment he lost his hold on her. Fingers slipped through and the force of the crowd separated them. Calum was in a panic. Irritated at the push and pull. Desperate to get back to her. He was shoved forward and she was pushed back. He could barely see light brown hair or hidden hazel eyes peering over the crowd. He turned suddenly, saw Ashton’s car pull up to the curb and sent out a silent thank you as he maneuvered back around and elbowed his way through, knocking into cameras and anyone in his path. He found her in the middle of taunting flashes, frozen on the ground in an obvious fall; hands on the sidewalk and foot twisted awkwardly. He sank down to her quickly, back to the crowd and focused entirely on her.

“Arden?” He gently asked, broke the frozen fear she was in and watched as she came back to him with a trembling lower lip and hands that shook as they sought him out. “It’s okay, I’ve got you. Can you get up?”

She tried, sucked in air through the pain once weight hit her right foot and clutched at Calum; his arms catching her before she took another tumble. The paparazzi were pressing in again, a blare of a car horn took many by shock and Calum used the moment to move fast. He lifted Arden, hands under her thighs, her arms wrapped around his neck and legs wrapped around his waist.

“Hide your face love, we’re getting out of here,” Calum instructed and hoped she heard him. It took a few seconds before he felt her bury her face against his neck, the cool metal of his sunglasses clashing with the warmth of her cheeks.

The backseat door flung open as soon as Calum managed to get them to the car. Ashton had reached over from the driver's seat and aided them in their time of peril. Arden slid into the seat and over to the window opposite the crowd and commotion; to where the night was much calmer—the world seemingly split in two. Calum climbed in quickly and shut the door with a resounding thud; the tinted windows helping to keep the blinding lights at bay. Ashton’s quick getaway was made in silence as he peeled out and forced everyone back.

“What the fuck happened back there?” Ashton finally asked after minutes of driving in new found silence. “Are you guys okay?”

Calum nodded. Though it was more dramatic than any other run in with paparazzi he found himself mostly unfazed. Though his eyes drifted to Arden to find her gone peakid and tense. Her fingers curled into her palms and a distant yet pleading look settled about her. The trembling lip came back and her hand slowly inched toward him through the distance he left between them on the bench seat. She pulled it back when she realized Ashton could see; the hesitation and hurt in the movement broke Calum. In a quick motion he undid his seatbelt and slid to the middle of the seat, buckled back in and pulled her to him as far as the seatbelts would allow. She shattered in his hold and let the anxiety and fear of the entire night out. Sunglasses were abandoned in favor of tears. He did his best to soothe her and not look at Ashton who only had questions and assumptions surely sitting on his tongue. Calum ran his fingers through her hair, placed small kisses to the top of her head and whispered words he hoped would help ease the ache and pain.

“It’s okay now, I’ve got you.”

Arden pushed away from him slightly after doing her best to collect herself. “I never want to do that again.”

“You won’t. No more paparazzi walks, I promise.”

Calum heard Ashton’s noise of confusion and disbelief. It probably wasn’t a promise that Calum should be making but he would raise hell to keep it. Calum brushed off the looks Ashton was trying to give him through the mirrors and wiped away stray tears from Arden’s face. Kissed her forehead after contemplating if that would come off as purely comfort and then roamed down to peck her lips without thinking. It was instinctual and habitual. Calum ignored the obvious stares Ashton was sending him and swallowed down the fear of being caught. Took the rest of the ride back to his place to coddle her and keep her calming down, to quell the panic and pain lingering within her.

When they pulled up to Calum’s house he let out a sigh and undid their buckles. “Ash? Can you just… not say anything about this?” He asked with his gaze skirting to Arden and back to Ashton.

Ashton threw his hands up from the wheel. “I don’t even know what this is. How can I say anything about it?”

That was Ashton’s way of saying whatever conclusions he came to about the way they interacted after the scuffle would stay an assumption and a secret safe with him. Calum nodded appreciatively and opened the door, hopped out and offered his hand to Arden. She was hesitant to put weight on her foot and Calum grimaced when he remembered the awkward fall and sheer pain written on her face. He scooped her up again and closed the door with his hip.

“You need to get your ankle looked at,” he said as they approached the door and felt Arden stiffen in his hold. “We can go to the emergency room.”

“No!” She was quick to let the opposition to his proposal slip out. “No. It’s okay, I mean, it’s maybe a small sprain at most. I just need to rest it. And get some ice.”

Calum wasn’t so sure about her denial but trusted her word and brought them into the house to do as she needed. With her foot elevated and being iced her tears finally dried from the horrendous end to the night. Duke curled up with them and made everything feel like it was going back to normal; if they even had a normal. There was a bite of worry about what Ashton saw and how Calum couldn’t keep the situation under control, there was fear in the power of management and the vindictive levels they were willing to go to to get what they wanted. At this point, Calum wasn’t even sure what they were after anymore. Ruining him, ruining the relationship or ruining Arden.

“What do you think the headlines will be like?” Arden asked and Calum heard the anxiety creeping back into her tone. “You don’t think Ashton’s gonna tell Michael, do you?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Calum soothed and pulled her closer into him, reveled in the familiarity and normalcy of the affection and vowed to do the worrying for both of them.

It was his turn to stand up to management and decide when the hard truths needed to be told. Arden had braved enough of the storm; stood firm in the face of management and saved their reputations. Took the weight of both their lies on her shoulders. The falling fractures were his now.

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[piracytheorist]

I wonder if Colin and Jen had a falling out?

I honestly don’t know. They seemed to be getting along well while the show was going on, and I genuinely believe that it showed in their performance, like, when you have a good relationship with a co-actor, a lot of the time, the acting chemistry grows stronger.

But since the show ended, and it’s been three years since then, and nearly four since the time Colin and Jen were actually working together... it seems like they each took their own paths in life.

I don’t think they fought or whatever. I don’t have enough evidence that suggests that. But honestly, when you are working with someone, you are in the kind of mood where they’re your first thought among favourite people. Instead, post-sixth season of OUAT, Jen was asked who her favourite character was in the show besides Emma, and she - in a quite admittedly sarcastic way - said Hope, and I think her separation from the show gave her the berth to have that kind of sarcastic response, where from a show where characters (and many of them well-written) abounded, she chose a baby character who appeared for less than a minute, half of which she was played by a doll. Later on she was asked about her favourite interactions as Emma and I think she said with Neal. So, a lot of what we saw earlier on, in her interactions with Colin and what she used to say about Emma and Hook, were greatly influenced by the fact that she was into the whole vibe of it (as were we, lbh). Once she got out, she had a different view of things and could form opinions that were more influenced by her catholic experience and not the current one she was having at the specific time of being asked.

And of course, that’s not bad. When something is happening, and when that something has completed, especially when it takes the best part of six years of your life, you tend to have different opinions in each case. You grow and you change, and you look back and reflect. And for her own reasons, Jen decided to say the things she said. So while I think (from what I’ve seen) she and Colin had a good working relationship and had great chemistry as Emma and Hook... that’s all it was. Actors meet a lot of people and change sets and casts and projects all the time. They can’t keep up friendships with every single person they meet over the course of their careers.

And when it comes to Colin, I genuinely believe he wasn’t as close with Jen as he was (and still looks to be) with some other members of the cast - particularly, Sean Maguire, Josh Dallas, and Michael Raymond-James. With them, even now, you can see that he still interacts with and jokes and has fun with... something we haven’t seen him do with Jen since the time Jen left the show. And as I said, this happens. Actors meet other actors and a lot of the time, they don’t stay friends, they may keep a friendly relationship and such but overall, lasting friendships, especially when you jump from project to project, are rare among them.

So overall, I don’t think there was a falling out between them... cause I don’t think there was anything too deep between them since Jen left to begin with.

[pucksnsticksnhockeyboys]

summertime mindset - pt. 9

grocery stores & confessional walks

masterlist for summertime mindset

Timing is hard to get right and summer doesn’t last forever. You and Tyson learn the hard way.

word count: 2.1k

note from the writer: I cannot believe we’re almost done. just an epilogue left. what. how. 

SUMMER

“Next time, I’m driving.”

“You don’t even know your way around town.” Tyson returned your playful comment, nudging you teasingly as he fell in step with you on your trek across the parking lot and into the grocery store. There was so heat in your glare, and you even drew a laugh out of him as a result of the look. Though you had been living in the town for nearly an entire summer, you still got lost trying to navigate. “Okay, fine.” He chuckled. “Next time you can drive.”

“Thank you.” You smiled proudly, as if you won some grand prize. The doors to the grocery store opened automatically and you welcomed the cool breeze with a content sigh. “You brought the list, right?”

“I have never once used a list while grocery shopping.” Tyson beamed playfully, pulling a cart out from the stack of others as you rolled your eyes at him. Your aunt and his mother had specifically written out a list of items that you needed to pick up for the grand ‘end of summer’ barbecue they had planned.

Living in denial, you had yet to refer to it as the end of summer barbecue.

“You better have the list memorized, Jost.” You joked, wandering into the grocery store with him by your side. You heard him chuckle, and mumble an affirmative ‘oh, I do’ before he took off in the direction of the frozen food aisle—you knew for a fact that you didn’t need anything from there. Muttering to yourself, you chased after him. “Such a child.”

“You can’t have a barbecue without popsicles.” He assured you, reaching into the freezer and pulling out a box of rocket pops. He was grinning wide and goofily, and you couldn’t help but mirror his smile.

“When you’re right, you’re right.” You agreed with a laugh, watching with a hammering heart as he tossed the box into the cart. Before you could move on, he closed the distance between you and him, pressing a sweet and short kiss to your lips. You grinned, but chose not to question his sudden act of affection.

As you moved throughout the store, Tyson tossed in various things that he didn’t need—claiming that if he got caught, his nutritionist wouldn’t be happy. You couldn’t help but agree after a bag of marshmallows landed on top of the cookies he has snagged on impulse. You sent him away to get a package of hamburger buns, and when he returned you were inspecting the paper plates, trying to decide which brand you wanted to get.

You hummed along to the song that was playing throughout the store, the catchy Come on Eileen from the eighties that you had heard dozens of times. You heard Tyson approach, but before you could turn and ask his opinion on the plates, he had spun you around quickly, steadying you with his hands on your waist and his lips on yours. Distantly, you registered that the package you had been holding dropped to the ground as your hands settled on his chest as he held you close.

Your head was swimming as a result of the kiss, and how much he meant to you. He was Tyson, your Tyson, goofy, spontaneous, and fun. You had honestly one of the best summers of your life, and it was because you had met him.

When you pulled away, Tyson was looking at you with a look of adoration in his eyes. You reached up, fluffing the curls on the top of his head, and he grabbed your hand before you could retract it and pressed several soft kisses to your knuckles.

“What was that about?” You questioned, though you were far from complaining. He smiled, more adoring than his usual playful one, but it was still a look you loved earning from him.

“‘Cause I think I’m in love with you.” He explained causally. Your smile widened, arms winding around the back of his neck as you tried to compose yourself enough to repeat the almost-sentiment. It was crazy, you thought, to feel so strongly about some that hadn’t even been in your life four months earlier. But like everything else with Tyson, loving him came easily. Leaning up, you gave him another kiss in the paper plate aisle of a grocery store you didn’t know how to drive to.

“I think I love you, too.”

PRESENT

You were nervous, that was for certain.

It had been an entire week since the last time you had seen Tyson, hockey and work obligations keeping you from running to him. But, he was back in Denver, and you had gotten out of your last meeting of the day. Though you were stressed, tired, and in need of dinner, you drove to Tyson’s apartment complex instead of your own.

You were a buzzing mess of nerves and excitement by the time you reached Tyson’s floor, and from the last snapchat he had sent you, you recognized that he was lounging on his couch. You knocked on his door, rocking back and forth from your heels to the balls of your feet. He answered the door within a minute, and you were met with a look of confusion. You hadn’t told him you were coming over, but then again, he hadn’t warned you either.

“Hi.” You started meekly, whatever speech you had created in your head going out the window the moment you saw Tyson. He looked tired, with bags under his eyes and tension in his shoulders.

“Hey.” He returned the stiff greeting, stepping aside to let you into his apartment, but you shook your head. You had a plan for the evening, and you intended to stick to it, no matter how rocky your start was.

“Wanna go for a walk?”

He looked at you with confusion, but after you let a tiny smile slip, he was shrugging on his coat and heading towards the elevator. He was quiet, you could tell he was trying to get a read on you, but you focused on keeping your heart steady and putting one foot in front of the other.

“Listen, if you're just going to tell me you don’t feel the same, we don’t have to go for a walk. You can just tell me right now, and I’ll be fine.” He started as soon as the elevator doors opened in the lobby. Even so, he followed you as you exited.

“Tyson?” You started, turning to look back at him with an impish smile. You watched in amusement as his eyes widened slightly as you slipped your hand into his. It felt so familiar but brand new and exciting, that his simple touch was utterly exhilarating. It did nothing but reaffirm that you were making the right choice.

“Yeah?” He replied quickly, and you could hear a smile in his tone. Glancing over at him, your suspicions were proven correct, as he was practically beaming at your conjoined hands.

“Stop talking.” You chuckled, bracing yourself for the cold Denver winter as you stepped out of the lobby. The first time you had gone on a walk with Tyson it had been a lot warmer, and you smiled softly at the memory.

“So if you’re not here to let me down…” Tyson trailed off, his tone an odd mixture of nerves and giddiness that you couldn’t help but relate to.

“Do you remember when I first ran into you a few months ago?” You asked Tyson, not answering his unasked question. You felt his confused gaze on you, but you studied your steps as he hummed in affirmation. “Well, my aunt had sent me a picture that day, of you and I from that summer.”

“Which one?” He asked, though you could tell he wasn’t sure where you were going with your current train of thought.

“From the first time you taught me how to rollerblade. I looked so happy in the photo, so happy with you. And I hated it.” You explained, brows creased together as you tried to accurately piece together what was going through your mind. From your position standing close beside him, you could feel him tense at your last few words.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled, out of what you assumed was a need to fill the silence. You decided that you weren’t going to argue over whose fault it was and wasn’t that you lost touch, and continued on.

“But I’m happy now. Happier, I think.”

“Now that we’re friends.” He supplied his own conclusion, sounding defeated. You stopped walking then, on the corner of a street you really weren’t sure the name of. You probably hadn’t made it farther than a block from his apartment building, but you had been so wrapped up in him and your own head, that you could’ve walked for miles without realizing it.

“You said you still like me.” You stated, not a question. Tyson nodded, and you wondered if his cheeks were red from blushing or the cold.

“I still love you.” He confessed, and it was your turn to have your eyes widen in shock. You had never fully confessed to loving the other, though you had gotten close to the sentiment and Michael had his fair share of teasing comments directed towards you about Tyson’s feelings, though he usually had a drink or two in him. You had never heard him say it, completely, and it knocked the breath out of you for a moment. Taking your silence as a negative reaction, he began retracting his statement. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that—”

“I love you, too. Still.” You interrupted. While your original intention had been to simply tell him you had feelings for him, you knew nothing felt more right than confessing what you just did. Tyson had a reaction similar to yours; wide eyed shock and a hammering heart. “I think I’ve always loved you. We just didn’t get the timing right.”

“Do you think we could get it right this time?” He asked hopefully, taking a hesitant step towards you. After receiving a small smile and an even smaller nod in response, his grin grew. You couldn’t hold back your own elation, a breathy laugh falling past your lips.

“I know we can, Tys.” He smiled even brighter at your words, and reached a hand up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. His touch was gentle, and his fingertips ghosted down your jaw, before he pinched your chin between his thumb and forefinger. Tilting your head ever so gently up to meet your gaze, you couldn’t help your grin as he looked adoringly at you.

“Can I kiss you?”

“I’ve been waiting for you to.” It was only seconds after the words left you that he pressed his lips against yours. One of your hands wrapped around the back of his neck while the other gripped his jacket in a bid to keep him close. Not that you’d have any problems with him moving too far away, if the way he was holding you tightly was any indication.

Kissing Tyson was like coming home after a long day. He was familiar, yet thrilling, and you wondered just how you had gone so long without him by your side. It was easy to forget you were freezing on the street corner in Denver, and not back at your aunt’s house in Vancouver bathing in the summer sun. He warmed you from your head to your toes, and there was no way you could even hope to hide your broad smile after breaking the kiss.

Luckily, Tyson was just as incapable of hiding his joy.

“I promise I won’t fuck it up this time.” Tyson breathed, dropping his forehead against yours and grinning like a madman. You chuckled at him, too excited and too happy to come up with something to assure him that he wouldn’t. Instead, you leaned up and pressed a quick kiss to the corner of his lips. At this, a boyish look took over his features. “You missed.”

“Oh, did I?” You laughed, adjusting your position so that both your hands were settled on his chest as he straightened and rested his on your hips. He nodded, the grin that you loved on full display. “Well, we can’t have that.”

“Nope.” He mumbled against your lips, having already bent down to connect your lips to his. If it weren’t for the chill that ran through you, you would have been content to stand there and exchange sweet nothings with him for the rest of the evening.

“Take me home, Tyson.” You grinned, threading your fingers through his. He squeezed your hand, his broad smile never once wavering. He ducked down, capturing your lips in another quick kiss like he couldn’t help himself. You didn’t mind, each kiss from him felt like a monument of weight was lifted from your shoulders.

“Gladly.”

[rubysunnday]

So this is really depressing but in the episode where they were all nearly hung Shelby sis was before polly and by the time the guy went to say they were free Shelby sis was already hung and they were prepairing for polly. Polly telling everyone and tommy realising he Fucked up

A/N: When I first saw this I was like ‘Jesus Christ!’ but then I had an idea and I think this is now one of the longest things I’ve written on this blog. 

Warning: this is not pretty or fluffy or anything like that, it is dark as hell and I am so, so sorry.

Part 2, Part 3

You just knew that it was going to happen today. You hadn’t slept at all that night because you just knew. Part of you still hoped that you’d go free; that Tommy would save the day yet again. But, deep down, you knew he wouldn’t.

Even if he did, it’d be too late for you.

The warden opened the door, causing you to look up. She gave you a grim look and your body went cold. You were only 19. Just because you were in the wrong place at the wrong time. It was unfair. So, so unfair.

“It’s time,” she said quietly, and you nodded, forcing yourself to stand up. Next door to you, Polly was being raised too but you knew that there was only one scaffold in the prison – one of you would be first.

Polly came out of her cell and her tired eyes widened when she saw you being marched down ahead of, already knowing what was going to happen.

“No!” She exclaimed, pulling against the strong arms holding her. “NO!”

You turned around to look at your aunt and paused. “Can I talk to her, one last time?” You asked softly, looking to the warden.

She hesitated. “Two minutes, that’s it.”

You gave her a small smile as you and Polly were put in an empty cell for a bit of privacy, the door locked behind you.

“No, this, this can’t be happening,” Polly muttered, pacing. “This isn’t right.”

“Polly.”

“No, I refuse to except this.”

“Pol, it’s ok –“

“HOW IS IT OK, Y/N?” Polly yelled and you smiled sadly at her.

You sat down on the bed and patted the space next to you. Polly sat down and you leant your head on her shoulder, relishing her comfort one last time.

“Death isn’t something I’m scared off, Pol,” you said quietly, holding her hand. “If anything, it’s a friend. Taking us from this hell to somewhere quieter.”

“It should be Tommy heading to hang, not you,” Polly muttered, and you nodded.

“I know,” you said, squeezing her hand. “But what is the point in my last emotions being hatred and anger? I don’t want to leave this life with pain and anger in my heart.” You sighed. “Pol, I’d rather expect my death than to not see it coming. I’d rather die a martyr than die a villain. This isn’t some heroic sacrifice, it’s just me, a 19-year-old woman, who was in the wrong place at the wrong time. And if that leads to some justice in this cruel, cruel world, then I’ll die happy.

“We all have our time, Polly, and if mine is now, then I’ll embrace it gladly. But, when you see Tommy again, because I know you will, don’t argue, tell him…tell him I forgive him. For everything. Tell him that I love him endlessly and that I’ll miss him. Tell them all how much I love them. Tell them that I am sorry,” you swallowed against the lump in your throat as the tears started to burning your eyes, “that I couldn’t be there for them.

“I know I won’t be here to see any of them again, Polly. I’ll never get to see my brothers and sisters again, but, that’s ok, because I remember them as they were before the war – happy, filled with life and smiles. Not these soldiers that they world turned them in to.”

Polly sniffed, wiping away the tears falling down her face. “Oh, darling, when did you get so wise?” She asked, putting a hand to your face.

“I learnt from the best,” you replied, placing your hand over hers. “Besides, I won’t be alone. Grace and mum will be there. And Freddie and Danny.”

“Grace will look after you,” Polly said quietly, a forlorn look on her face, “I know she will.”

You nodded.  “Polly, I need you to do something for me.”

“Anything.”

“Don’t let me be buried. I don’t want to be stuck in one place. I want to be cremated and spread across the land. I want to travel, even in death, because the world never stops turning. I want to be a part of the future and the past. But, most importantly, I don’t want to be forgotten by history.”

Polly nodded. “I promise you, y/n, that you’ll never be forgotten.”

You exhaled slowly, sitting up straighter and smoothing out your hair and dress. “I think I’m ready, Pol.”

Polly wrapped her arms around you, and you hugged her back tightly, taking in her perfume one last time. “I love you so much, my brave girl.”

“I love you too, Polly,” you whispered back as the door was unlocked. “Thank you, for everything.”

The warden came in and grabbed you by the arm, pulling you away from your aunt and towards your death. You could hear Polly’s cries behind you as you approached the noose hanging from the wooden scaffold, but it all became white noise.

It wasn’t a bad way to go, all things considered. It would be quick. A bit of pain and then…nothing.

You climbed the stairs and with each step you felt yourself become more absent from the world. The rope was harsh against your neck as it was put around you and tightened. In front of you was a priest, uttering a prayer under his breath as your hands were tied behind your back. The warden stepped back and gave you one final look, sorrow in her eyes.

You knew it was coming. Out the corner of your eye you saw your executioner move over to the lever that would open the floor underneath you. You looked up and saw Polly being brought out of the cell and down the corridor to wait for her turn.

Behind your back, you felt the ring Arthur had given you for your 18th, running a finger over it one more time. You made eye contact with the priest and gave him a small nod, confirming that you were ready.

Ready to die.

Polly was screaming and yelling as the wardens held her still and forced her to watch.

“In the bleak midwinter,” you whispered softly, clenching your hands together tightly, forcing yourself to think of your family and not what was about to happen.

A creak.

A jolt.

Nothing.

/

Ada was waiting for Polly outside the prison gates, anxiously tapping her foot against the wet pavement. She stepped forward as the doors opened and Polly was shoved out them.

“Pol?” Ada asked, frowning. “Where’s y/n?”

Polly slowly lifted her eyes to look at Ada. “She hung.”

Ada fell back a step, hand over her mouth. “No, no, she can’t have. Tommy freed them all…he said he would…he said he did!”

“She went first,” Polly said quietly. “Told me to tell you that she loves you and misses you. And that she forgave Tommy.” Polly gathered Ada in her arms as she sobbed. “She went first knowing it would be too late. But she still forgave him. She forgave everyone, in the end.”

Ada sniffed as she clung to her aunt. “Do the boys know?”

/

John, Michael and Arthur stepped out of the prison door, blinking at the harsh daylight around them.

“Ada!” Arthur exclaimed, stepping forward to hug his sister, pausing when he saw her red eyes and ruined make – up. “What’s wrong?”

Ada let out a sob, burying her face in her hands as Arthur gathered her in his arms, looking to a broken Polly for answers.

“Where’s y/n?” John asked quietly, his voice cracking slightly.

Polly inhaled sharply. “She’s dead.”

“No,” John snapped, shaking his head, “no, she can’t be. The bastard freed us all. He said he would, and he did, so, where the fuck is she?”

“She was hung first,” Polly said quietly, trying not to look at the expression’s on her son and nephew’s faces. “I watched her hang right in front of me. Yet, somehow, she forgave him. She wanted me to tell you how much she loves you all and that she misses you.”

“Pol,” Arthur whispered, still hugging Ada, “please tell me this is some sick joke.”

“It’s true, Arthur,” Ada whispered, clinging onto him. “The warden confirmed it.”

John swore loudly, kicking the wall nearest him. Michael just stared down at the ground. “This is Tommy’s fault – the fucking bastard should’ve been hung, not her,” he said, falling to the ground with a sob. “Not my baby sister. She did nothing to deserve this. She was innocent!”

“I’m going to kill Tommy,” Michael said lowly. “I’m going to fucking murder him.”

/

“Mr Shelby, there’s a police officer here to see you, sir.”

Tommy looked up and nodded. “Send him in, Frances.”

Frances disappeared and was replaced by a solemn looking policeman holding his hat under his arm.

“Mr Shelby,” he said, stepping forward, “I’m afraid I’m not here for a good reason.”

“I guessed that,” Tommy said, standing up and coming around to the other side of his desk. “So, spit it out then, who’s died?”

“Your sister, sir, y/n Shelby. I’m afraid the release order didn’t arrive soon enough, and she was executed this morning as per her sentence.”

Tommy felt his heart drop out from underneath him and put a hand on the desk to steady himself. The police officer in front of him was still talking but no words were reaching him, there was just a ringing sound.

“- I am very sorry for your loss, sir.”

“Get out,” Tommy ordered, and the police officer quickly made himself scarce.

Tommy slowly fell to the ground, his back against his desk. His little sister was dead by his own hand. He killed her because he thought he could beat god. Her blood was on his hands.

“I’m sorry, y/n,” he whispered, burying his head in his hands. “I am so, so sorry.”

[twoidiotwriters1]

Written In The Stars CXIX (Harry Potter xF!Oc)

Words: 3,473

Series’ Masterlist

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Listen to: ‘Like To Be You’ -by Shawn Mendes ft. Julia Michaels

Chapter Seventeen: Resolutions.

"So here's the plan," Mel whispered to Hermione as they followed Hagrid deeper into the forest, "if things get out of control, make sure everyone goes back safely and I obliviate them as soon as we reach the castle..."

"Don't be stupid," Hermione said. "Now's not the time for jokes. Oh, I really hope Hagrid knows what he's doing!"

"Gather roun', gather roun'," said Hagrid. "Now, they'll be attracted by the smell o' the meat but I'm goin' ter give 'em a call anyway, 'cause they'll like ter know it's me..."

He let out a high-pitched shout and everyone stood there in anxious silence waiting to see what would happen. Mel's ears picked up the sound of dead leaves crunching, even though no one seemed to be moving. She heard a quiet huff and a few branches breaking.

"Why doesn't Hagrid call again?" Ron whispered beside her.

She felt someone press against her and she jumped lightly, Neville had found his way towards her and now was tightly gripping her arm. He was staring at some point a few feet away from them. That's when she remembered something from the first night back in the castle, when Harry had mentioned something about... what was it? A horse?

She turned to look at him, Harry was eagerly looking around, trying to see if someone else was noticing. Mel spoke up.

"What are they?" It had been a long time since she'd heard her own voice sounding so frightened.

"Oh, an' here comes another one!" Hagrid exclaimed. "Now... put yer hands up, who can see 'em?"

A total of three people raised their hands. Neville, Harry, and a Slytherin boy.

"Yeah... yeah, I knew you'd be able ter, Harry," Hagrid grumbled. "An' you too, Neville, eh? An' —"

"Excuse me, but what exactly are we supposed to be seeing?" Malfoy sneered.

Mel watched the meat Hagrid had thrown onto the grass as it was ripped off piece by piece by some invisible creature, Parvati gasped.

"What's doing it? What's eating it?" She asked in terror.

"Thestrals," said Hagrid. "Hogwarts has got a whole herd of 'em in here. Now, who knows — ?"

"But they're really, really unlucky!" Parvati exclaimed. "They're supposed to bring all sorts of horrible misfortune on people who see them. Professor Trelawney told me once —"

"No, no, no! Tha's jus' superstition, that is, they aren' unlucky, they're dead clever an' useful! 'Course, this lot don' get a lot o' work, it's mainly jus' pullin' the school carriages unless Dumbledore's takin' a long journey an' don' want ter Apparate — an' here's another couple, look —"

Parvati yelped. "I think I felt something, I think it's near me!"

"Don' worry, it won' hurt yeh," Hagrid smiled. "Righ', now, who can tell me why some o' you can see them an' some can't?" Hermione raised a hand. "Go on then."

"The only people who can see thestrals are people who have seen death."

Mel should've known that a creature with such fame had to be related to death. Still, far from scared, Mel was intrigued, she knew what it would take to be able to see them, and yet, part of her wished she could.

"Tha's exactly right. Ten points ter Gryffindor. Now, thestrals —"

"Hem, hem." An unpleasant tension settled on Mel's shoulders. Umbridge had arrived. "Hem, hem."

"Oh hello!" Hagrid beamed.

"You received the note I sent to your cabin this morning? Telling you that I would be inspecting your lesson?"

Mel didn't like the way Umbridge talked to him, she clenched her fists and took a deep breath.

"Oh yeah! Glad yeh found the place all righ'! Well, as you can see — or, I dunno — can you? We're doin' thestrals today —"

"I'm sorry?" Umbridge dramatically leaned forward and put a hand on her ear. "What did you say?"

Mel gripped the hand that Neville kept firmly around her forearm.

"Er — thestrals!" Hagrid repeated loudly. "Big — er — winged horses, yeh know!"

Hagrid flapped his arms as if they were wings, Umbridge quickly started to write that down.

"'has... to... resort... to... crude... sign... language...'"

"Well... anyway..." said Hagrid, blushing a little. "Erm... what was I sayin'?"

"'Appears... to... have... poor... short... term... memory...'"

She hadn't been so rude to any of the other teachers and Mel was wondering exactly why was she giving Hagrid such a terrible time when it came to her. Of course, she hated Hagrid, at this point everyone knew he was a half-giant and Umbridge was the biggest piece of racist rubbish she'd ever met, she wanted to get rid of him.

"Please continue teaching as usual. I am going to walk" She pretended to walk. "among the students... and ask them questions."

"Neville," Mel whispered. "I need you to let go of my arm."

"Why?"

"Because if I blow up, I don't want to get you in trouble," She growled.

"Do you find that you are able to understand Professor Hagrid when he talks?" Umbridge asked out loud to Pansy.

"No... because... well... it sounds... like grunting a lot of the time..." Pansy was shaking with silent laughter.

"Don't do it, Mel!" Neville warned her. "If you get in trouble you won't be able to attend the D.A. this week!"

"Er... yeah... good stuff abou' thestrals. Well, once they're tamed, like this lot, yeh'll never be lost again. 'Mazin' senses o' direction, jus' tell 'em where yeh want ter go —"

"Assuming they can understand you, of course," said Malfoy.

Mel made a movement to reach for her wand and Neville gripped her arm with unexpected strength. That caught Umbridge attention, she walked up to them with a smile.

"You can see the thestrals, Longbottom, can you? Whom did you see die?"

"That's a personal question," Mel replied. "I don't think Neville has to answer that if he doesn't want to."

Umbridge raised a brow with disinterest.

"You can't see them, Miss Dumbledore, am I correct? Well, at least that's one mental detriment we don't have to worry about in you..."

"Excuse m—" Mel started, but Neville was quick to step in.

"My grandad," He retorted. "That's whom I saw..."

"And what do you think of them?" Umbridge acted like her insult to Mel hadn't happened.

"Erm," Neville glanced between Mel and Hagrid. "Well, they're... er... okay..."

"'Students... are... too... intimidated... to... admit... they... are... frightened...'" muttered Umbridge, scribbling it down furiously.

"No!" Neville frowned. "No, I'm not scared of them — !"

"It's quite all right," Umbridge patted Neville's shoulder and Mel glared at the woman wishing she could do something. "Well, Hagrid, I think I've got enough to be getting along with... You will receive... the results of your inspection... in ten days' time."

She lifted all her fingers, smiling in that cold way of hers.

"I'm sorry," Neville mumbled next to her. "I didn't want to..."

"It wasn't your fault," Mel said roughly. Neville flinched, and she immediately softened her tone, reaching up to place a hand on his shoulder and squeeze a little. "You did nothing wrong, Nev."

"That foul, lying, twisting old gargoyle! You see what she's up to? It's her thing about half-breeds all over again — she's trying to make out Hagrid's some kind of dim-witted troll, just because he had a giantess for a mother — and oh, it's not fair, that really wasn't a bad lesson at all — I mean, all right, if it had been Blast-Ended Skrewts again, but thestrals are fine — in fact, for Hagrid, they're really good!" Hermione rambled as they made their way back to the castle.

"Umbridge said they're dangerous," said Ron.

"What does that bitter fat rat knows about magical creatures?" Mel spat. "I'm with Hagrid here, those are all superstitions..."

"Well, it's like Hagrid said, they can look after themselves," Hermione nodded in agreement, "and I suppose a teacher like Grubbly-Plank wouldn't usually show them to us before N.E.W.T. level, but, well, they are very interesting, aren't they? The way some people can see them and some can't! I wish I could."

"Do you?" Harry asked carefully.

Hermione winced.

"Oh Harry — I'm sorry — no, of course I don't — that was a really stupid thing to say —"

"It's okay, don't worry..."

"I'm surprised so many people could see them," said Ron. "Three in a class —"

"Neville was extremely sweet, helping Hagrid out and trying to keep me away from detention," Mel lowered her gaze, her fists tightly closed. "I'm so sick of that woman..."

"Weasley, we were just wondering," Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle were walking up to them. "D'you reckon if you saw someone snuff it you'd be able to see the Quaffle better?"

"That's rich coming from you,  you puny ferret— Did the beating Harry and George gave you whipped the memories of your lack of skill?"

Malfoy's smile faltered a bit, but it didn't vanish.

"Moody, are we?" He said. "I'd be too if I were losing my marbles..."

Ron made an attempt to move but Hermione and Harry held him back. Mel glared at the Slytherins as they walked past them.

"One day," She said through gritted teeth. "One day I'll get him... and Umbridge too."

"Peeves, this is my last warning!" Mel warned as the poltergeist attempted to strangle Ron with tinsel. "Go away or I'll make a fanged frisbee follow you for the rest of the year!"

Peeves stuck out his tongue but flew out of the Great Hall anyway. She was helping with the Christmas decorations, Flitwick had asked the prefects to lend a hand and so Ron and Hermione had been expected as well as Erick, though he had to keep his distance. Mel noticed he was more tired and jumpy than usual.

"You know, I have to admit it," Hermione said as she handed a few fairy lights to her. "I was worried about you dating Fred— Thought you'd get out of control, but you're getting better!"

"What do you mean?"

"She means you don't fight people as much as you used to," Ron replied bluntly. "By people, she means Harry."

"Yeah well, we don't talk at all," Mel shrugged. "Can we not discuss this? I don't feel comfortable discussing my love life..."

"I don't love talking about you snogging one of my brothers either," Ron scoffed. "Can't say I hadn't seen this coming though, I knew this would happen, Fred and George always flirt with you..."

"They flirt with everyone," She clarified. "They even tried to flirt his way out of detention with McGonagall once."

"That was different," Ron rolled his eyes. "They were joking then, with you it was clearly intentional."

"Clear, was it?" Mel snorted. "How come you're suddenly an expert?"

"I've always been good at it when it comes to you and my brothers," He replied matter-of-factly. "You were really obvious."

"You want to talk about obvious?" She glanced at Hermione to make sure she was distracted. "You really want to go there, Ronnie? I can list all the times you've been obvious..."

Ron's eyes widened.

"Either way," He quickly changed the subject. "Hermione's right. You're in a better mood now, and if dating my brother does that to you, then I have no problem with it."

"How kind of you," The girl replied distractedly

"You and I," Ginny sat down in front of her. "We're trying for the Quidditch team."

Mel choked on her pumpkin juice.

"What gave you that idea?"

"You have pent-up anger and being able to push someone out of their broom might help," Ginny smirked.

Mel lowered the book she'd been reading and thought about it. Hadn't she dreamed about trying out for the team a year prior? Well, yeah, but only because Harry said she could be a great addition. It didn't mean she was good... but it didn't hurt to try, though.

"Dunno, Ginny," She bit her lip. "I have so much to do already..."

"C'mon!" The girl insisted. "How many times have we stayed up till late talking about it? I know it's not exactly how we planned it, but we can't give away our chance!"

Hadn't she said she would find a way to get back at Malfoy and Umbridge? This was her chance, she could drag Malfoy's butt on the field.

"Oh, all right," Mel groaned. "But not a word of this to anyone! I don't want more people breathing on my neck, I have enough with them waiting to catch me and Fred snogging in the halls!"

"It's kind of weird how you never kiss," Ginny mentioned, a little giggle escaping her lips. "Never thought Fred wasn't into public displays of affection..."

"Oh, he is," Mel raised a brow. "But I refuse to give a show."

Most people were rendered speechless with Ginny's display, she had a natural talent. When it was her turn, Angelina asked what place she wanted.

"Er..." Mel shrugged. "I guess beater would be okay?"

"Really?" Angelina frowned. "You and Ginny are small and not too strong... the both of you are great options to be seekers."

"I suppose that's true," Mel looked back at her friend, who was watching from the stands. "Well, if you take both of us we can take turns to be seekers and beaters."

She'd meant that as a joke, but Angelina's eyes shone with excitement.

"You're right I could. You don't need to be all muscle to be a beater, you just need to have a decent aim... Okay, Mel, show me what you got and I might consider your idea."

First, she tried her skills as seeker and released the snitch at the other side of the field, throwing golf balls to distract her and see if she'd lose sight of the golden orb, but it was hard to miss its glint between a bunch of white dirty balls. She did this a total of four times. Nothing too impressive, two times the snitch was close to escaping, but she put up a good fight.

Then she was placed in the beater position, she was a bit clumsier with the bat and she didn't have the deathly aim George and Fred had, but she figured she could develop a decent one with time. It was up to Angelina though, Mel could only hope she hadn't looked like a complete idiot.

"Okay, gather round!" Angelina called after a few minutes.

Ginny and Mel stood side by side, holding hands and squeezing.

"Thank you all for coming," Angelina continued. "I've made a decision. It's my duty to choose those that did it best..."

Mel held her breath, already thinking about how the twins were going to tease her once they'd found out she'd been rejected.

"WE MADE IT!" Ginny was jumping around happily.

Mel was elated, she laughed loudly and let her friend do all the noise. She still couldn't believe she wasn't dreaming, she was part of the Quidditch team!

Officially, Ginny had the Seeker spot and Mel was beater along with Jack Sloper, but Ginny promised to take turns even if Mel had insisted on letting her take the spot completely.

"It's better this way," Ginny discussed. "If we practice in both, we'll be brilliant in more than one way!"

Mel was still flushed red and sweaty when she walked into the castle, she couldn't wait to find the twins and tell them the news...

"I'll go grab us something to eat on our the way to the D.A. meeting, keep going!" Ginny turned around and rushed to the Great Hall.

Mel kept walking, an easy-going smile on her face as she replayed the events of that morning, she felt herself floating, happier than she'd felt in weeks. Things were starting to get better, she was popular, and now she was part of the team, what else could she—

"Erick?" She watched as the boy appeared around the corner, his eyes glued to the parchment on his hands. "Erick, you won't guess what just happened!"

Forgetting all about discretion, Mel ran up to him ready to talk about the tryouts. Then, as she got closer, she noticed his face was strangely pale, and he was shaking.

"What's wrong?"

The boy looked up to her but his eyes were lacking their usual presence. His gaze was absent, when he opened his mouth to speak, nothing came out. Erick cleared his throat and tried again.

"I... I just got this," He said. "During lunch... I went to the owlery to send a letter to Joseph... though probably my parents sent a letter to my aunt as well..."

"What is it?" She insisted.

Erick blinked furiously, and it was then she realized he was trying not to cry.

"I... I have to..." He cleared his throat again and shook his head. "My grandad, he..."

"I'm sorry," She said, skimming through the contents of the letter in shock. "I don't know what to say..."

"Mel!" Ginny appeared again, holding two sandwiches. "There you are! C'mon, we need to hurry!"

Mel gave a start, but Ginny didn't seem to notice Erick as she ran up to her and caught her arm, dragging her away from the boy. Mel barely had time to return the letter before Ginny pulled harder.

"What are you doing? Hurry, the meeting starts in five minutes!"

Mel was going to protest and go back to the boy, she looked over her shoulder to call his name and realized he was gone, she didn't know how he'd managed to disappear so quickly. She let Ginny take her away, thinking that tomorrow she would hopefully have the right words to comfort him.

When they arrived at the room of requirement Mel had finished eating even though it all had tasted like cardboard. She was no longer excited for her new position as a beater, and she wanted nothing but to end the meeting so she could go and look for her friend. He needed her.

"Okay," Harry started. "I thought this evening we should just go over the things we've done so far because it's the last meeting before the holidays and there's no point starting anything new right before a three-week break. What d'you think, Mel?"

"Hmm?" She looked up, desperately trying to remember what the hell Harry'd been saying. "Yeah, that's fine..." She replied absently, Harry stared at her with a small frown.

"We're not doing anything new?" Zacharias Smith asked in annoyance. "If I'd known that, I wouldn't have come..."

"We're all really sorry Harry and Mel didn't tell you, then," said Fred.

"We can practice in pairs," Harry continued, realizing Mel wasn't going to be helpful that night. "We'll start with the Impediment Jinx, just for ten minutes, then we can get out the cushions and try Stunning again."

While the group divided into pairs, Harry pulled her away from the crowd discretely.

"Mel," He repeated, his tone urgent. "Are you okay?"

"Yes," She blinked. "I just... I ran into Erick a few minutes ago..."

"Did he upset you?" Harry scowled. "What did he do?"

"Nothing," She grabbed his hand and pulled it away from her. "He got a letter this morning... his Grandad... I just need a moment, I'll be fine."

"...You can leave if you want."

"They need me here."

"You need a break."

"Look who's talking," Mel said defensively. "Why do you care, anyway? You've been ignoring me for weeks, please continue."

Harry stepped back taken by her sudden outburst.

"Fine," He eyed her up, then added carefully, "...I heard you got a place on the team. That's excellent."

"Yeah," She said shortly. "I'm a Beater, like my mum."

"Angelina said you and Ginny were taking turns to be seekers. You'll be wonderful, I'm sure."

He was trying to be polite, he could see she was in distress and wanted to distract her, even if she was doing all in her power to upset him. Harry had to stop a groan from falling out of his lips, he had no idea of how to talk to her now, it was as if they no longer knew each other.

"You know," The boy continued over her silence, not knowing why he was trying so hard to cheer her up. "They've come a long way, haven't they? I think we're making a difference, even if it didn't look like it at first..."

Her eyes landed on Neville as he successfully managed to freeze Ron in place for a second time. She thought back on the little shy thing he used to be, and how confident he looked then. A small glimmer of optimism peeked through Mel's sense of hopelessness, and somehow, Harry felt it too.

"Yeah..." She smiled lightly. "I think you may be right..."

Next Chapter —>

Taglist.

@dee123ksha @vampiregirl1797 @siriuslysirius1107 @stardusthigh @mikariell95 @vernon-dursley @thesuitelifeofafangirl @tomshollandz @kylosleftbuttcheek @reverse-hxlland @bloodorangemoonlight @omiwashere @t-rexs-world​ @just-here-to-escape-from-reality​ @21bruhs

[managedmischiefs]

remedy//spencer reid

Hi there! So this is my first Spencer fic and while it’s nowhere close to the first thing I’ve written (I’ve been writing for almost seven years now), it’s the first Spencer fic I’m posting. Let me know what you think and let me know if you want anything like a part two or anything because I totally have an idea for that lol. Also let me know if you have any requests or just reach out if you wanna chat about our mans Spencer Reid or MGG or about anything at all.

Enjoy- like and comment!!!!

genre: fluff, angst, lil bit of smut but not much

word count: 8.2k

warning: nightmares, drugs (not use, just mentioning), overuse of pet names

This fic is inspired by Remedy by Adele so give that a listen while you’re reading okay now go!

SPENCER

"I can't believe we got these tickets!" Garcia exclaims, bouncing up and down in her seat. "Lottie Ray is one of my favorite singers of all time!"

"We know that, Garcia," Luke laughs, patting her shoulder. "You talk about her all the time,"

"Because she's talented and gorgeous and amazing and helps with charities and visits sick children and she's a goddess, Luke Alvez!" Garcia snaps, turning to the backseat to punch his chest a few times. I duck away from the physical violence and knock into the Prentiss, apologizing quietly.

"Alright, kids, calm down," Emily laughs. "We don't need a pre-concert fight,"

"Don't make a mess of my car!" Tara warns from the driver's seat.

"If this is any indications as to how the night is gonna go with you two then maybe I should go home," I joke, running my fingers through my newly short hair. I hadn't gotten it cut in a while so I figured now would be an appropriate time.

"So remind me how we're getting backstage?" Luke asks, turning his head to me.

"Backstage passes, that's what I was told," Emily answers with a nonchalant shrug. "FBI privileges. At least it's good for something,"

We arrive at the stadium and park our cars just as Matt and JJ pull up on either side of us with their families piled in their cars, Rossi and Krystall on the other side of one of them. Everyone jumps out of their cars and Rossi starts distributing backstage passes for everyone to wear around their necks, trying to tame the excited kids. They've been raving about this concert for weeks and now that it's here, they can't contain their energy.

"Come on, everyone!" JJ exclaims, waving the kids towards the entrance.

We flash our new badges and security lets us through, then we meet up with another security guard who brings us to a green room filled with food and drinks that just excites the kids even more. Nobody can seem to contain any of the kids as they go ravaging through the food in the room.

"So," the security guard at the door says, "if you all didn't know, Shawn Mendes is the opening act for tonight. He's starting a soundcheck on the stage in about ten minutes and then Lottie Ray is gonna do her soundcheck after, so you're more than welcome to go and watch it, if you want. Catering is a few doors down to the right if you get hungry, and just ask security if you need anything at all,"

We all mumble out our thank you's as the security guard disappears. Kristy and Will start pulling the kids away from the food so they don't make themselves sick as everyone makes themselves comfortable on the couches, and, of course, Emily locates some wine.

"Is this what it's like to be a celebrity?" Tara jokes as Emily fills up her glass. "I could get used to this,"

"We finally understand how Rossi lives," Matt adds on.

"Knock knock," there's a soft voice from the doorway and all our heads whip over.

Lottie Ray is standing in the doorway and I swear, my breath is knocked right out of my chest. I've never seen a more gorgeous human being in my life. Her smile is huge and her green eyes are shining, contrasting against her red satin and lace outfit that fits her perfectly. She's shifting her weight back and forth on her feet, telling me that her heels are hurting her feet, but she looks so happy that it's easy to ignore. Her long brown hair is curled down to her waistline and frames her doll-like face perfectly. She looks sinfully stunning.

The kids all gasp at the sight of the international superstar and she laughs, stepping further into the room. "Hi!" She grins, waving at the kids. "I heard we had visitors on tour and I just had to come say hi to you all before I go get ready! It's so wonderful to meet you all," The kids are absolute puddles in the face of Lottie and it's actually quite funny. I don't think I've ever seen them this quiet and compliant. "I hope you all come and watch soundcheck, it's always a lot of fun,"

"We'll be there," Garcia says, and it seems like she's in the same trance that the kids are.

"Alright," Lottie glances out the door for a moment, "I've gotta run and go get ready but I'll come visit again before the show," she blows a kiss and then starts heading out the door. "See you later!" And with that, she's gone.

As soon as she's gone, the trance is broken and the kids break into cries of excitement, raving about how they've just met their idol as they go running to hang on their parents. I'm still replaying the image of that angel in my mind and trying to keep myself under control, to keep my cheeks from blushing. She's just so beautiful.

"We should get to that soundcheck, right?" Krystall suggests after checking the time once more.

"Let's go, let's go!" The kids cheer and start running through the door, nearly toppling over anyone passing by in the hallway.

We all rush after them so they don't get lost, but when I spot Lottie rushing into a dressing room down the hall, I bite my lip. "Hey, Rossi," I say, nudging his arm. "I'm gonna go find a bathroom before soundcheck,"

"Sounds good," he waves me away, being pulled away immediately by his wife. I see them off until they've disappeared into the stadium, being led by a security guard to where they can sit and watch. And once they're gone, I hurry down the hallway.

I get to a door with Lottie Ray on the front and a handle with a number lock on it, so I quickly type in the month and year of my birthday, hearing the door unlock before pushing it open. Lottie whips around from where she's standing in the middle of the room, a smile breaking out on her face.

"You cut your hair," is the first thing she says before jumping into my arms, barely even waiting for the door to close.

"Do you hate it?" I ask, tucking my head into her neck, my arms tightening around her waist. I hear her heels clatter to the floor.

"I absolutely love it," she giggles, pulling away and placing her hands on my cheeks as she inspects my locks. "I've never seen you with short hair though. What am I supposed to pull on now?" Lottie smiles at me in the most innocent way, coursing her fingers through my hair, settling at the base of my neck.

"How about we find out?" I tease right back, carrying her to the couch in the corner of the room and tossing her down.

Lottie's eyes go wide as I reach for the button on her pants, pulling them down her legs. "What? Are you crazy?"

"Maybe a little," I quip, tossing the satin aside, taking in the sight of her in a lace bodysuit. "You're wearing red lace and expect me to keep myself under control?"

"Your team is outside and you wanna- we've kept this a secret for almost five years and you're gonna jeopardize that just so you can eat me out in my dressing room?" She protests, but her body says different as she slides her legs open when I lay on the couch in front of her.

"Nothing we haven't done before," I quip, pushing her bodysuit aside. She's looking down at me with her eyes wide and her lips parted, a beautiful and needy expression etched on her face. "And we've gotta make it fast, hmm? I told Rossi I was going to the bathroom,"

"I hate you sometimes," Lottie breathes out, tossing her head back.

Since she's not looking anymore, I take the moment to stun her and circle my lips around her clit, immediately earning a drawn-out moan. "Shh," I hush her, "we can't have everyone knowing what's going on in here. Now be a good girl and stay quiet for me."

///

"I can't believe you did that," Lottie breathes out, pulling on a pair of black workout pants and reaching for a sports bra.

I come out of the bathroom from washing my hands, smirking. "You can't say you didn't enjoy it,"

"You've gotta get back to your team, okay?" she grabs my cheeks and pulls my lips down to hers, now significantly shorter without her heels on. "I love you so much."

"I love you too," I echo, pecking her lips a few more times. "I'll see you later. Be safe,"

Lottie snorts, grabbing a hair tie from the coffee table as she follows me out the door. "You're telling me that, Mr. FBI? Mr. Shot In The Neck? Mr. Shot in The Knee? Mr-"

"Yes, I am, because you're the one who broke your foot on stage last year. So, yes, be safe," she wraps her arms around my waist from behind, leaving us waddling along to the stage, but she's laughing and that's all I care about. It makes my heart flutter and I've known for a while that I'd do anything to keep her beautiful smile on her face.

"I've gotta go get my in-ears," Lottie pouts, spinning around so she's in front of me. She goes on her toes to kiss me yet again, but when someone shouts her name, she pulls away, pouting. "I gotta go,"

She goes running off in one direction and so I go out the other way, just to not seem suspicious if the team catches me walking towards them. Thankfully, they're too invested in Shawn Mendes tuning his guitar on stage to notice which direction I come from.

"Uncle Spencer!" Michael exclaims as I walk over, jumping up and down, all of the kids sitting on the floor of the stadium as opposed to the seats, where the adults are.

"What's up, kiddo?" I smile, giving him a high five as I take a seat beside JJ and Will.

"This is super cool," Michael grins, pushing away his brother when he starts poking his shoulder.

"Look, look!" Henry whispers, interjecting himself into the conversation, pointing towards the stage. "There's Lottie Ray!" She's just walked onto the stage and approached Shawn, helping him with something with his guitar and we can faintly hear their voices and laughter through the microphone.

"You seem to really like Lottie Ray," Will speaks up with his normal lazy smirk. "You got a crush on her, Henry?"

His cheeks turn pink and it makes everyone laugh, but Henry just groans. "She's just pretty!"

"Henry's got a crush!" Michael mocks, sticking his tongue out at his older brother. "Henry's got a crush!"

/// LOTTIE ///

"Is this supposed to sound like this?" Shawn scrunches up his nose as he fiddles with his guitar.

I laugh, shaking my head, walking over to him. "No, not at all. Let me fix it," I grab his guitar from him and sit down on the stage, messing with the pegs and with his microphone until the sound issue is fixed. "There you go, love,"

"Thanks, Mom," he jokes, slinging his guitar over his shoulder.

"Oh god," I fake gag. "Stop making me feel so old. I can't do it anymore,"

As Shawn continues his soundcheck, I jump off the stage to chat with the dancers who are fooling around on the floor of the stadium, dancing around to the music. I jump right in with my best friends and twirl around, giggling as my body fills with adrenaline and endorphins. Shawn is finished soon and it's my turn, so I head to the sound engineers to grab a microphone and get back on stage. The first few songs aren't sung-through properly are just used to check for sound balance, but then the dancers come to the stage to do some songs full out and we have some fun.

I grab my own guitar and sing some songs, keeping my eyes from wandering over to Spencer. Since we've been together so long, many of my songs are about him. Well, almost all of the songs from my last few albums are about him. I always want to be singing my love songs directly to him, but our relationship is a secret and it needs to remain that way. So I keep my eyes forward and try to ignore his presence as best as I can.

Someone on the crew calls a hold on soundcheck so I put down my guitar and go to sit at the piano bench, retying my yellow tennis shoes. I hum to myself to pass the dead time and then I hear heavy footsteps approaching me. I look up just in time to see my best friend and dancer, Whitney, sprinting up to me, her eyes wide. "Mayday," she sneers through gritted teeth.

"Mayday? What the hell is that supposed to mean?" I furrow my eyebrows, holding my microphone lazily in one hand.

Whitney tilts her head to where the BAU team is sitting and then repeats, "Mayday,"

My eyes mirror hers as I see what she means. My own mother, lovely Mrs. Kelsey Barlow, has just walked up to the team and is hugging Spencer and I can see the uncomfortable look on his face. Then she puts her hand over her mouth and, judging by the look on everyone's face, she's just exposed Spencer's relationship status. I hastily jump off the piano bench and rush off the stage, walking quickly over to the group, catching Spencer's panicked eye.

"Mom," she whips her head around to me, her eyes wide.

"I forgot!" She exclaims before hurrying off, breezing past me as she mumbles broken apologizes to herself.

I choke back a nervous laugh, turning back to Spencer with a smile. "Well, we had a good run, didn't we?"

"So-" the woman I recognize to be Penelope Garcia speaks up, "you two are- you're- what-"

"Um," I kneel on a chair in the row in front of Spencer, tapping on the armrest, "Spencer and I are dating,"

The surprise is clear on everyone's face but Spencer is obviously panicking, his hands clutching his thighs tightly. The whole point of keeping our relationship secret was to keep me safe. Yes, if Spencer's face was plastered all over the media because of paparazzi, it would make his life in the field and as a professor more complicated, because then going undercover would be impossible. But he's told me about how his family has been targeted because of him before and how he refused to let that ever happen again. So as soon as we met, we made sure to never be seen in public. We don't go out, we have secret credit cards if we ever go on vacations (which is incredibly rare, considering both of our schedules), and we always stay home for dates. Thankfully, it's worked. It's been five years and nobody has suspected a thing, not even his team full of profilers. But now, thanks to my mom, the jig is up.

"Dating?" Tara's eyebrows shoot up.

"For how long?" Luke asks.

"I'm sure Spencer could tell you exactly how long," I tease even though I know he won't pitch in, judging by his panicked look, "but we've actually been together for a little over five years." And if they looked shocked before, then they surely look shocked now. But Spencer is looking down at his lap and fiddling with his hands and it breaks my heart. "And now that everyone knows," I make another joke out of the situation to lighten the mood, "Spence, can you come help me with something? There's an audio problem and I'm sure you could probably fix it in two seconds," Spencer's head pops up and he nods, standing from his seat and walking past me. I catch his hand to keep him from completely walking away, smiling at everyone. "Soundcheck will keep going on just another few minutes, don't worry."

I jump off the seat and as soon as I do, Spencer pulls me backstage. I trail behind him, catching the way his free hand digs into his eyes, his hand in mine squeezing tightly. Once we're out of view from the team, I place my hand on his arm. "Sweetheart," I whisper as he leads me away from the stage, towards my dressing room. I know I need to be at soundcheck, but my family is more important to me than standing on stage and singing a few notes. He plugs in his birthday and throws open the door, stomping inside, and once we're safely in, that's when he drops my hand. Both hands then dig into his eyes and he grunts, flinching at the door slams closed.

"Hey, hey," I whisper, stepping closer to him, "baby doll, take a breath, you're okay. I'm right here, I'm safe,"

"They know," his voice shakes. "They know now and-"

"They're FBI agents and it's okay that they know. You've protected me for five years and they can help with that," I place my fingers gently on his biceps, hoping to soothe his panic just a bit, but it doesn't seem to help.

"Krystall's not, and Kristy's not, the kids aren't," Spencer whines, starting to break down. "I can't lose you, Lottie. I can't-"

"You're not gonna lose me," I promise. "They're your best friends and they deserve to know that you've got a girlfriend. It's okay, peach. Everything's gonna be okay. So just breathe, nice and deep for me,"

Spencer takes a shaky breath and slides his hands down his face, his eyes squeezed closed. He reaches one of his hands forward and places it over my heart, sighing of relief. "Okay," he whispers, almost as if reassuring himself that I'm actually here, "okay,"

"Spencer, can I hug you?" He nods quickly, and it doesn't even take me a second before I wrap my arms around his shoulders, feeling him bury his face in my arms. "I love you so much." I tell him for what could possibly be the millionth time, but it doesn't hold any less meaning than the first time. "I love you, I love you, I love you."

/// SPENCER ///

"There you are!" Garcia exclaims, practically pushing me into a chair as I walk into catering. "There. Sit your ass down and tell us what the hell is going on. You've been dating Lottie Ray for five years?"

"I-"

"Five years, Reid?" She cuts me off before I can even get out another word. "Like seriously? How did you even keep it a secret for this long?"

"We-"

"Does this mean that her songs are about you? Because she-"

"Garcia," Luke says, placing his hand on her shoulder to politely shut her up, "let him explain, please. We're all curious. Now shut up,"

And truly, everyone is staring at me. The kids are sitting at their own table a few feet away but all the adults are staring at me and it's making me nervous. But I look down at my hand and see the sharpie on my knuckles in Lottie's perfect handwriting. I love you, baby doll. It calms me down.

"You guys, um," I clear my throat nervously, "well, sorry I kept it a secret,"

"We're not mad," Emily says. "We just wanna know why,"

"I did it to protect her," I answer quickly, and it's obvious on everyone's faces that they understand what I mean. "All of our families have been targeted many times because of our jobs and I've lost people, I almost lost my mom a few years ago. I couldn't let that happen again. So as soon as I met Lottie, I told her we had to keep it a secret and she agreed,"

"Will you tell us how you met?" Kristy asks with a fond smile.

"Um, yeah," I nod softly. "Lottie was here, in Virginia. If you recall, five years ago, the media was ripping her apart and hating on her for all these fake allegations about lying and stealing songs and all these other things,"

"Oh, yeah. She wasn't involved in lawsuits, right?" Krystall adds.

"She was sued by over thirty other artists and won every lawsuit. But she came to Virginia to escape the harassment because there's no paparazzi here," I suppress my smile as I remember our first meeting. "We met two weeks after I got out of prison, in a bookstore, actually. I had no idea who she was. I knew all of her music from Garcia, but not what she looked like. She thought I was lying about not knowing who she was because she's so used to people being fake around her and lying to her and using her, but I truly didn't know. I didn't even know that people were being so horrible to her online. So we just sat in the bookstore and read books in silence together for a few hours and we did that for two weeks before I actually asked her out,"

"And that's it? Simple as that? That's how you started dating an internationally famous pop star?" Tara laughs.

"That's it," I shrug nonchalantly. "I asked her out and I made her dinner and then we started hanging out and we just started dating. She moved to Virginia permanently because she likes it here so much and she feels like she can be a normal person here, not a celebrity,"

"So what suspicious things have you done with her that you haven't told us about?" Matt teases with a smirk.

"Well," I stifle another laugh, "remember those few times when I claimed I overslept and missed the flight back to Virginia on those cases?" Everyone nods. "Intentional. We happened to have cases in the same places that Lottie had stops on her tour so, on those days, I'd miss our flight and go see her, then get my own flight back. We don't get to see each other much at all when she's on tour,"

"Sneaky, sneaky." Rossi nudges my shoulder, making me laugh. "When she is around, you've gotta bring her around for one of our team dinners,"

"I'm sure she'd like that," I reply softly. "And I'm sorry I didn't tell you guys, that I've kept this secret for so long. I just- I really love her and I want to protect her."

The table is silent and I can't tell if that's a good thing or not. Does that mean they're mad? Does that mean they don't even need to accept my apology because an apology wasn't needed because they weren't mad in the first place? Am I overthinking? I don't understand.

"Where's the ring?" Will is the one who speaks up first.

My cheeks turn red, but when nobody else speaks up to protest the slightly invasive question, I gather that this is the question on the tip of everyone's tongue. "It's, um, it's in my apartment. Haven't found the right moment,"

Everyone's eyes go wide and I'm not sure if they were expecting that answering. After all, this is quite a lot of information for one day. In just an hour, they've found out that I'm dating a Grammy-winning singer and I'm ready to marry her. They thought that I've been single for years and I've been dealing with my trauma alone but in reality, I've been falling asleep on calls with Lottie and sneaking out like a teenager to meet up with her. I'd lay down my life to protect her and I don't know what I'd do without her.

/// LOTTIE ///

I stare out at the sea of fans chanting my name, my chest heaving after the intensive dance number I've just performed. My feet are aching from my huge heels but they always are so it's easy to ignore the pain and plaster on a smile.

"Alright," with a heavy sigh, I drag myself over to the piano and sit down at the bench, clipping the microphone into the stand. I play some chords on the piano before I start to play some melodies that just sound pretty, to underscore the speech I'm about to give. "The song I'm about to play isn't a song that's usually on the setlist," I say, glancing out at the thousands of fans before me, "but I usually add it when someone certain is in the audience and that someone is here tonight."

I look back down at my hands for a moment and take a deep breath before speaks again. "I wrote Remedy," my fans scream as I reveal what song I'm about to sing, "not as a song to put on an album. I wrote this song as a lullaby of sorts, and as a reassurance for my," I hesitate and bite my lip for a moment as I feel my eyes start to tear up, "for my someone, that I'd always be there for him. I'd always be there to love him, to make his pain go away, and to make the horrors of this world go away, even if it's for a little while. I'd do whatever I could to be his remedy. And I play this song whenever he sees the show because I don't want him to forget because I fear he will forget. I want him to remember that I love him and that," I gulp and play the first chord of the song, "I'm always gonna be here for him."

///

When I pull my in-ears out after the final song of the show, everything sounds like it's underwater. It's normal but I'll never get used to not being able to hear properly after a performance. My security guard is at my side and rushing me away from the stage, down the hallway, and towards a car that is waiting to take me home. It's key to get out of the stadium as fast as possible so that fans don't locate me and swarm me.

I jump in the backseat of this car and let out a sigh, laying down across the three-seater and closing my eyes. My ears are pounding as my hearing starts to make a comeback, and I drift in and out of sleep as a driver brings me back to my townhouse. I'm still dressed in my final stage outfit and I can't find it in me to care at the moment.

When we arrive at my small Virginia townhouse, it's nearing midnight as my security guard opens the car door and helps me to my aching feet, walking me to my front door before disappearing back into the car. There's classical music playing inside and it makes me smile, and when I hear footsteps, my heart skips a beat. Spencer comes into my view with his cute smile, his hands tucked into his pockets. "Hi, sweet girl,"

"Hi," I smile back, holding my arms out like a child.

He easily complies, stepping forward and pulling me into a tight hug. But he swiftly picks me up and prompts me to wrap my legs around his waist, and he goes off, carrying me up the stairs and towards my bedroom. "I've gotta get you out of this outfit and these damn shoes and into bed, right?"

"How was the show?" I mumble into his shoulder, feeling my adrenaline start to come down and my exhaustion kick in. "Did you like it? Did the team? Did the kids?"

"Everyone loved it. Emily and Tara were drunk by the time they left, and the kids had an amazing time. And you know that I always love watching you perform," he sets me down on the bed and starts to unzip my thigh high heels. "You pointed out that you always sing Remedy when I see your show but it always takes me by surprise when you sing it. It started out as you singing it to me when I have nightmares and now you sing it to stadiums full of thousands of fans. It's insane. And you know what else is insane? These shoes. How do you even walk in these?" He throws them aside and then reaches for the zipper of my bra top.

"Can we take a bath? I'm all sweaty but I don't wanna stand for a shower," I place my hands on his shoulders as he undresses me, giving him a cute pout, even though it's not needed because I know he'll say yes without a protest.

"Of course. Come on. Be careful," he leads me into the bathroom and runs a warm bath while I start to wipe off my makeup, grimacing as my throat starts to get sore from the hours of singing I just did. I feel Spencer's hands on my waist as the room gets steamy, his lips pressing against my shoulder blade. "Sometimes I'm so floored by your talent,"

"Stop," I blush, letting my head fall against his chest.

"Absolutely not," he quips, lips moving to my cheek. "Seeing you up on stage, dancing, and singing, and looking so happy, I'm so proud of you. And next week, you're gonna go to New York and win some Grammy's and make me even more proud of you,"

"I'm not gonna win," I pull away from his arms and step into the warm, bubbly bath, sighing contently. Spencer quickly undressed himself and steps in on the other side, facing me.

"You tell me every year that you're not gonna win and then you do," Spencer retorts, grabbing my ankles under the water to pull me closer to him. I fall over his chest and he wraps his arms around my waist again. "Some people in your position have the biggest ego, and you have the tiniest ego I've ever seen,"

"M'sleepy," I ignore the point he's trying to make in an effort to whine instead, my hands grasping his growing biceps.

"I know you are," Spencer coos, fingers brushing up and down my spine. "We'll get out in a few minutes. Just relax and then we get to bed,"

I've always loved this side of Spencer. When the sun sets and we're sleepy, we both tend to get cuddly and clingy, me more than him. He's happy to hold me and kiss me and never let me go and I'm happy to pine over him. The truth is, I've never loved anyone the way I love him. I thought I would spend my life around people who would use me for my money and society status and I'd have to fake a smile forever. I ever thought that my reputation would get ruined and I'd hide away in Virginia and meet the most adorable yet traumatized FBI agent who would happen to be the easiest person to fall in love with. I often find myself wondering how many people have fallen in love with Spencer because it's just so easy to. Sure, keeping my relationship a total secret isn't ideal, but it makes me feel like a teenager with all the secrets and the hiding and I have to admit that I love it. I love having dates on my balcony and hiding under the covers for hours on end and sneaking through back doors to kiss him. I never thought I'd meet someone like Spencer and I'm always pinching myself.

"C'mon, c'mon," Spencer whispers, and when he speaks, I've realized that I've dozed off on his chest. "Before you fall asleep again,"

I'm basically a rag doll in Spencer's arms as he helps me out of the tub and wraps a towel around me, then one around himself before pulling the plug for the tub. I wander into the bedroom and into my closet, pulling out one of Spencer's flannels that I'd stolen years ago, buttoning that up. I dry off my hair a little bit before climbing into bed just as Spencer flips the light off. He climbs in bedside me and pulls me close, kissing the top of my head. "Go to sleep, doll. You need lots after that performance." I don't even have it in me to respond and I just fall asleep right on his chest, exactly where we both know I belong.

///

Nightmares used to be much more common for Spencer at the beginning of our relationship. Unknowing to me, at first, when we met, he had just been released from prison after being falsely accused of murder and drug possession. He'd been locked inside with the criminals that he's spent his life hunting and he saw horrible things, and nightmares hit him like a ton of bricks.

He was broken when we met but he put on a brave face and told me that he was a profiler for the FBI, which was true in a way, even if he wasn't reinstated yet. He would see me during the day and plaster on a smile, then he'd go to sleep and wake up screaming as he relived what he saw in prison, that's what he eventually revealed to me. I cried when he told me that. I felt so guilty for not seeing through his facade because once he told me, it was clear.

I assumed the circles under his eyes were because he wasn't sleeping due to always working, not because he was having nightmares. I thought his hands shook because he was nervous to be on dates, not because he was experiencing PTSD, or PTSS as he would eventually correct me to say. I missed so many things and I just cried over him for hours, apologizing for not being there for him when he needed me. And Spencer held me so tight and he cried too and he told me that I make him happier than anyone he's ever met, and somehow, that cured any heartache I was feeling.

I hadn't realized how severe Spencer's nightmares were until I experienced one for myself. We didn't sleep in the same bed for the first three months we dated, and then I eventually was too tired to drive home and Spencer let me stay over. I was so excited to be wrapped up in his arms for an entire night that the thought of witnessing one his nightmares didn't even cross my mind, and I fell asleep as soon as my head hit Spencer's chest. He woke up crying out a name I'd never heard before, tears streaming down his cheeks as he thrashed around and grasped at the bedsheets, ripping them completely away from me. I woke up immediately and pulled him into my arms, cooing and promising that he was safe and everything was okay. We didn't sleep for the rest of the night because he was too scared to have another, to see the faces and places that so often plagued his nighttime.

I thought the nightmares stopped, or at least they became more sparse. Over the years, Spencer's time in prison became further and further away and while he never forgets a face, the faces seemed to get blurrier and the names he cried out became more jumbled, as if he was starting to become unsure if the syllables were correct. He still carries around his trauma like a suitcase with a broken wheel but he started therapy and it became easier for him to talk to me about his pain and he started to get better.

But then there are the hard days. There's the days where Spencer sees someone on the street who looks similar to someone he's killed on the job or someone who has hurt him, or the days when he has flashbacks, or the days when he spends hours staring at the crooks of his elbows, wondering if he should go find just one more vile of dilaudid to dull his pain. Or the day when his team finds out that he's dating an internationally famous singer- me. These send him into panic attacks that can last for minutes or hours or days. Panic attacks lead to nightmares, and that's the worst.

I know something is wrong when Spencer kicks me. He's always a relatively still sleeper and not much of a blanket hog, that's my job. He often complains over breakfast about how he awoke in the middle of the night to cold feet and my arm over his face, but always with a reassurance that he loves me regardless, usually pairing his words with a kiss and wandering hands.

So when I'm awoken by Spencer's leg jamming into mine, I'm wide awake. I let out a whine and reach for the lamp on the bedside table, flipping it on and refraining from whimpering at the sudden light. I rub my eyes and sit up, turning to look down at my sleeping boyfriend beside me. He's drenched in sweat and clutching the duvet in his hand, gradually pulling it closer to him. Whines and moans are growing from the back of his throat as his brows become tenser, and I let out a defeated sigh.

Spencer has explained to me many times that trying to wake him up from a nightmare will only make it worse and that's it's best if I just wait until he's awake to comfort him. Maybe that's the worst part, just watching him suffer. I have to watch him thrash around and listen to him scream names of those who have died because of him and I can't do anything until his body decides the trauma is enough for now.

He starts to kick his legs when his lips part and some mumbled words fall from his mouth, but I can't understand them. I watch helplessly as he progresses, pulling the duvet up to cover his face. This makes me panic and even though I've been instructed not to touch him or interfere with his dream, I fear he could smother himself. So I reach forward and pull back the blanket, flinching when his hand tries to smack mine away a few times. He's shouting names and whimpering and tears are pouring down his cheeks and I'd be lying if I said I'm not starting to cry too.

"Spencer," I breathe out, unable to witness this anymore. "Baby, wake up, please,"

He's crying out for help, reaching for someone who will never come. I'm right here but he's wishing for someone else, someone maybe on his team or maybe there's someone he's intending to help or maybe he's just needing to be held or maybe he's needing someone who's dead. But no matter who it is he's needing, he's crying out and his knuckles are white around the duvet.

Then his eyes fly open and his chest is heaving, and it's like time stops for a second. Spencer looks down at his hands and he releases the duvet from his iron grasp, lips parted as he takes shallow breaths.

"Spencer," I whisper, and he jumps at the sound of my voice. He's clearly forgotten that I was here. It's times like this that I hate my job and how I'm always traveling, how I'm not always around when he needs me. I'm holding myself together but I'm choking on my own sobs, holding out my hand to him. "It's okay, I'm here. You're okay, I've got you,"

Spencer reaches out a shaky hand and takes mine in his, collapsing into my arms in a heap of heavy cries. I hold him as tight as I can bear, rubbing his back as he tucks his face into my shoulder. I squeeze my eyes shut as I shush him, feeling his body completely meld into mine.

"Spencer, you're so-" I gulp, clutching his tee-shirt, "you're safe. It was just a dream, you know that. You're right here with me,"

"It seemed so real," Spencer cries. "It hurts,"

"Shh, darling, I know it does, I know it really hurts you," I lift my head and bring my hand to his cheek, lifting his head too. I wipe his tears with the sleeve of my flannel, or his flannel, and my heart breaks even more when I see how devastated he looks. "Why don't we go take a seat on the balcony and get some fresh air? That usually helps, doesn't it?"

Spencer nods and untangles himself from me and the duvet, heading towards the door on the other side of the bedroom. I grab a fresh blanket on the way out, one that's not covered in sweat and tears, and watch Spencer sit down in an armchair, giving him a weak smile. "Do you want me to go make some tea?"

"No, I don't wanna be alone yet," Spencer shakes his head, looking up at me with bloodshot eyes. "Will you sit with me?"

I nod and move to sit on his lap, knowing the physical contact will keep him grounded and will prevent him from getting lost in his dream again. His eidetic memory has been leaning on the cursed side than the blessing side lately, meaning that every image of what Spencer saw in prison is so vivid. Sometimes he has trouble telling what's real and what isn't and I have to remind him. Sometimes he asks, sometimes I have to become the profiler and figure out when he's struggling. But that's hard when I'm always so far away from him.

"You know," Spencer keeps his gaze out on the dark sky as he speaks, placing one of his hands on my thigh, "a few weeks ago when you were in Germany?"

I keep my eyes on him, nodding slowly. "Of course I remember. What about it?"

"I called you," his voice is meek and quiet, wavering and cracking. "It was the middle of the night here and I called you and you didn't pick up,"

I furrow my eyebrows at him, tilting my head. "Spence, honey, I called you back ten minutes later. I told you then, I was in an interview. I couldn't answer my phone,"

"I know," he whispers, fingers tightening around my thigh. "But I had a nightmare," he lets out a shaky breath as a new wave of tears falls down his cheeks. "They've been coming back so much worse and it sucks to be without you and I hate waking up alone and I called you because I needed you and-"

"Spencer," I hush him, wiping his cheeks again when he starts to get worked up.

So he takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. "I- you didn't pick up, and I was crying and I didn't know what was real. You know- everything looked all, you know, tunnely and blurry and I just- I needed you and you didn't answer and I was in so much pain,"

My chest feels tight and I can only imagine where this is going. Spencer has been wearing long sleeves since we saw each other for the first time yesterday but he's wearing a tee-shirt now, but the thought never crossed my mind that he relapsed. It never has. I always had confidence in him, but now? This moment is the only time when I'm scared that the road in front of us is bumpy and narrow and full of spikes and potholes.

"Spencer," I breathe out, putting my hands on his cheeks, bringing his gaze to mine. "Please tell me you didn't," His jaw tightens under my grasp and he doesn't speak immediately. He's breathing heavily under my hold and it does nothing to increase my confidence in his sobriety.

"I got dressed," he finally forces out. "I changed my clothes and I put on shoes and I was crying but I got my keys and I left my apartment." With just that, I collapse into his arms, burying my face in his neck and crying. "I don't know where I was thinking I could go but I just left my apartment. But- but then you called me," I lift my head at his words, eyebrows furrowed. "You called me right as I got outside and you were laughing at something and you just started telling me this story about how you made homemade pizza the night before with Carly and Whitney and I just- I went back home,"

"You didn't relapse?"

"No," Spencer shakes his head. "You called me and just talked to me about nonsense and you just reminded me how much I love you and how disappointed you'd be if I put such horrible stuff into my body ever again,"

My lips quiver as I nod, tears pouring down my cheeks. "Yeah," I lay my fingers on his cheeks delicately, "I'm so proud of you, baby. You're so strong,"

Spencer scoffs. "Doesn't feel like it," he looks back out at the city lights and sighs. "Is that tea offer still on the table?"

"Of course," I bring his gaze back to mine, but his eyes are glossed over. "Tell me you love me," He hums in confusion, eyebrows furrowed. "You heard me. I just wanna hear it. Just, please, tell me you love me,"

"Lottie, I love you so much," Spencer whispers, turning his head to press his lips to the palm of my hand. "I love you,"

I smile happily, content with that answer. "I love you too. I'll be right back,"

I crawl off of his lap and cover him with the blanket before hurrying inside, scurrying down the flight of stairs to the kitchen. The first floor is almost pitch black and it's only now that I notice it's four in the morning. Shaking off my exhaustion, I put on a kettle and grab two tea bags from the cabinet, happy that I have at least something in the food realm after being on tour for a few months. I carry the steaming mugs up the stairs and stifle a yawn, grumbling when I stub my toe against the top stair. But I make my way back into the bedroom and close the door with my foot, returning to the brisk balcony with my shaky boyfriend.

He's still staring off at the city as I set the mugs on the little table, taking a deep breath. "I didn't put anything in your tea," I tell him, crossing my arms over my chest. "Didn't think you wanted anything too sweet-"

"Will you marry me?"

If I was still holding the mugs, I would have dropped them. My eyes widen and my mouth goes dry, and it takes me a minute to form a coherent thought. But all I force out is, "what?"

"Will you marry me?" Spencer repeats, turning to look at me. "I've been waiting for the right moment to ask for a long time now and I just- no moment is ever gonna be the right moment, is it? And I just can't wait anymore," he moves the blanket off his lap and stands, and I notice now that he's holding a ring box in his hand. He must have grabbed it from inside while I was making tea. "I've never loved anyone the way I love you, Lottie. I wanna wake up next to you every morning and I wanna be your husband and have a family with you and grow old with you- I want that. I never thought I'd ever get that but now I have you and I never wanna let you go. I want to be by your side forever, even when you're stealing the blankets," I let out a laugh through my tears, reaching my hands up to wipe them with my sleeves. "So what do you say?" He seems genuinely nervous that I'll say no. But why would I spend five years of my life professing my undying love for this man just to deny his marriage proposal?

I sniffle, a smile creeping onto my face. "Are you gonna get down on one knee?" Spencer smiles, nodding as he leans on his knee that didn't previously get shot, opening up the ring box to reveal a beautiful jewel to me. The moment becomes real and a new wave of tears rolls down my cheeks. Spencer's crying too and it's just all too perfect. I reach my hand forward to wipe his cheeks. "Ask me again," I whisper.

Spencer catches my hand on his free one, kissing my knuckles. "Lottie, will you marry me?"

"Yes," I answer quickly with a sharp nod. "Yes, Spencer, of course, I will," The biggest smile breaks onto his face and he lets out a sigh of relief, jumping up and pulling me into a hug. He lifts me off my feet and spins me around, eliciting a giggle from me.

"Wait, let me put it on you," Spencer mumbles excitedly, setting me back down before pulling the ring out of the box and throwing it onto the floor.

He slides the ring onto my finger and it fits perfectly but I should have expected that from him. I think I told him once what my ring size was during a dress fitting for the Oscar's and, of course, he remembered all these years. He's amazing, this man.

"God, Spencer, I love you so much," I grab his cheeks and pull his lips down to mine, taking in every inch of him that I can. "I love you, I love you, I love you."

[urimaginespimp]

Michael Gray: Better Man pt 15

Olivia thinks back to the moment before Ada left to go home. They were both just lounging by the couch, talking about what she had missed back home. Not that Michael had fill her with it already, just that there is no more detailed narration than from Ada herself. Hell, even when she wasn't around that much in the family meetings, Poll doesn't fail to tell her everything.

"You are so lucky, Livy." Ada smiled at her.

"Now what does the princess of Birmingham herself doesn't have that I don't?" She teased.

Cringing that Olivia called her something her brothers would use to mock her, she hit her with a throw pillow. "I'm serious, Livy." She said, sitting straighter this time. "You and Michael have what Freddie and I have always wanted - a normal life."

Taking Ada's hand, she gave it a slight squeeze. "I'm sorry, Ads. I know how much you wanted to move away."

"I do still miss him, and I'll always will. But what happened can't be undone and I've come into terms with it. I'm just glad that at least the only person I consider as a sister could have it."

"I don't know how long though." Olivia opened up. Because as close as they are, they were also opposites in some ways. Ada wants the simple, quiet life, she's always liked a thrilling one. That's part of the reason why she misses Birmingham more than she probably should.

There has been a long running joke in the family that they were actually switched at birth. The first time Ada went to her first dance was the first time Olivia was thought how to handle a gun. Sure, she wasn't the violent kind, but she couldn't deny how she enjoyed being part of a growing empire.

"You can take a girl away from Birmingham, but you can't take away the Brummie in her." Ada said, shaking her head, chuckling. "But I don't know, Livy. Sometimes we are at our happiest when we are in a peaceful environment."

She was about to answer, when the front door had opened.

"The service is ready outside." Michael announced, the moment he came into the apartment.

--------

It had been three weeks, and to say that Michael and Olivia's relationship was doing well was an understatement. Sleeping together, sharing kisses, actually being closer. She recalls a time when things got to heated, but it was Michael himself who diffused the situation and declared that it wasn't the time yet.

She could go as far to say that what they have now is better than what they had before everything went south. Maybe it's because they're older now, or maybe it's because they're away from the chaos brought upon by their jobs back in Birmingham.

Just the two of them, living like two normal adults. Going on constant date nights, actually getting more comfortable with being more acquainted with her clients instead of the solid business approach she gave them, having a third opinion in conversations she has with Ginny, and having their own personal freedom together.

She was now getting ready for the gala. Sitting down in front of her vanity dresser, wrapped in her silk robe, still trying to perfect her makeup.

Maybe what Ada had wanted isn't as boring as she thought it would be.

But what about Michael? Would he want stay here with her? She already had an inkling to his answer.

She was just about to put on her lipstick when Michael called for her outside.

"Yes, Michael?" She approached him. He was in the living room, looking for something. Checking vases, behind the couch, and cabinet drawers.

"I can't find my lighter luv." He answered, still busy looking.

"Oh? What would you need it for?" She asked, confused.

"Just in case I get the jitters being around people I don't know."

"I'll be right back." She knew where it was. The last time he smoked was when they were both getting back from a night out in town together. It was really chilly outside and he had given her his coat and opted to smoke to keep himself warm, and he had actually put the lighter back inside the pocket of the coat after using.

It was hung together with her rack of clothes. Putting her hand in the pocket she remembers where it was placed in, she felt the cold material of his lighter inside. Pulling it out, she saw that something fell out the moment her hand was out of the pocket.

A rolled small piece of paper on the floor. Picking it up, she opened to see what it contained.

2Br Midtown Manhattan

Don't fucking step a foot back in here if you can't get her to come with you.

- T. S.

It was her address, probably written for him so he'd knew where to find her. But the note below it...

Confusion. That was all that she felt. She just had been sitting down on the edge of her bed, just staring at the note as if the longer she'd look at it, she'd feel better.

This was no doubt Thomas' handwriting. She'd worked with him too many times to recognize it anywhere. What was written was clear and easy to decipher. But what was bringing her into confusion was everything that has happened the moment Michael came to New York.

She is his ticket. Was everything that had happened even real? Or just part of his ploy so he could go back home?

So that was why he was so eager to fix everything between them. Fucking Michael Gray.

And what in the hell was Thomas thinking dragging her into such bull?! Wasn't he the same one who actually helped her settle in here?

As mad as she was at the moment, she couldn't help a lone angry tear from spilling.

Why do the men in this family always think that they could play god? They think they could just ruin someone's life and have a free conscience as long as they don't see the aftermath.

She was hurt, but more so, mad.

I'll bring you the fuck home, myself.

Pulling herself back together, she got up and went back to her vanity dresser to fix herself.

With new found strength, she decided to go through with tonight. She needed to be in the good graces of her clients because when she gets back here alone again, she'll need them.

She had just finished dressing up and was just now checking that everything was in place.

"Luv are you ready?" Michael called from downstairs. Him calling her that almost made her skin crawl. He's too natural at it that she was almost disgusted with herself for actually falling for it.

Taking one last look in the mirror, she went out of her room, note and lighter in hand. Walking down the stairs, Michael was already at the bottom of it, waiting for her with a grin. One she didn't bother returning.

When she was at the last step, she stopped so they could be level with each other. Michael was in a dark suit with a maroon tie, and his hair was styled.

What a handsome prick.

"You look absolutely beautiful." He commented, looking at her with total admiration.

"You don't look bad, yourself." She shrugged.

"Are you alright?" Michael asked her, confusion written on his face.

She extended her hand that had the note and lighter and placed it on his.

"I found your lighter." She coldly answered and went pass him.

Having realized that she had read the note when he saw it on his palm, he tried to get her attention. "Livy, I-"

"You have a lighter but you couldn't burn that one down? Has John not taught you about burning evidences?" She scoffed at him.

"Believe me, I wanted to tell you about Thomas' terms." He explained.

"Sure, you did. But I bet it's when we're actually already back in Birmingham so I could go back here alone. Typical Michael Gray."

They were both just looking at each other with intense gazes. Her, mad at what he's done, Him mad that she'd actually think that low of him.

"Let's just go, Michael."

The ride to the gala was pretty intense. They were both seated beside each other but not uttering a word. But both of them could feel how mad the other was.

Mr. Harry Coleman was his typical self - loud, funny, with a stomach as round as an expecting mother. Greeting guests with him was his son Luke, the same lad who personally handed her the invitation.

When the Coleman men saw them, both making their way in the venue, they approached them with pleased faces. "Ah, Miss Peterson!" Harry exclaimed.

"Mr. Coleman..." She greeted him. "Luke." She acknowledged his son who took her hand in his to give it a kiss.

"It's good to see your friend again." Luke smiled nodding at Michael who already had a burning gaze at him.

"Michael. Michael Gray." He introduced himself to both men, shaking their hands.

"Well I hope you both enjoy yourselves. It's such a pleasure to have you both here." The old man smiled at them.

When both men finally excused themselves to go greet other guests, she turned to Michael.

"I see empty seats." She told him, already heading to the table.

They were both seated next to each other, with a lady to his left, and a man to her right who both appear to be in their late 40s. They both noted how the lady and the man appeared to be in a bad mood, and were constantly stealing glances at each other.

"I'm sorry ma'am, did I happen to sit where that man on my companion's right should be?" He whispered to the lady.

"Well yes, but I don't want him to be." She answered, stealing another glance at the man, and took a sip of her drink.

On Olivia's side, the man also happened to strike a conversation with her. "She looks beautiful, huh?" He asked her quietly enough that the lady wouldn't hear.

"Do you know her?" She asked him.

"Mmmhm. I happen to be married to her."

"Uh, would like to switch seats with him?" She asked pointing to Michael.

"Nah, she needs her time. She's quite mad at me right now. I insisted to buy her dress for tonight, and when she finally unwrapped it, it was two sizes small." He explained, shaking his head at himself.

"You men, and your expectations for us women. I gave him two beautiful children, and he still expects me to fit in my old dress size?" The lady who had finally introduced herself to him as Monica, ranted to Michael.

But back on Olivia's side, the man was also explaining his end.

"I bought it all because I thought that it would look absolutely beautiful on her. It was my bad for not asking for the right size. I was too dazed imagining her in it. Now she won't talk to me because she thinks I'm trying to make her lose weight" Olivia was just listening to him, nodding along and thinking why the lady didn't bother listening to him explain.

"Did you tell that to her?" She asked him.

"Believe me, I tried. She doesn't want to talk to me at the moment."

"What was his excuse?" Michael asked. Monica couldn't answer that because she didn't let him explain.

"He doesn't need to. I got the message. I'm not as desirable as before." She answered accidentally loud enough that her husband actually heard it this time.

The man looked so offended, Olivia and Michael almost laughed at his face.

"Would you mind switching seats with me, mister? I need to talk to my wife and it cannot wait." He asked when he finally recovered.

"Not at all. I was just about to ask my date for a dance." He stood up and offered his hand to Olivia.

Wanting to give the couple time to talk, she took his offer and stood up.

A slow tune was being played by the band, and they were both just swaying together to it, not speaking, and stubborn to even make eye contact despite the physical contact.

It's disappointing to think that just yesterday they were a hundred percent happy. And tonight, was supposed to be the same moment she has decided that she's ready to tell him she loves him back. Now she isn't even sure if his were even real every time he said it.

I have every right to be mad too. Michael thought to himself. Yes, Tommy instructed him to win her back before he could be allowed back home, but it's not like he didn't want to, he just needed the address.

Looking back to the table where the couple was, he saw that they were now both smiling fondly at each other, probably made up already after she heard his side of the story.

He wanted that too. Yes, he wanted to go home, but he wanted to do so with her. But what does she want?

The entire duration of the party, they weren't arguing, but how could they when they weren't even talking? It was made slightly bearable when they got back to their seats, where Monica and her husband were now in happier moods and started talking to them all night.

When they were outside waiting for their service car, Michael looked at her. Olivia seemed to be in deep thought when she finally stared back and sighed.

"I'll go back with you to Birmingham." She told him,

"You don't have to, I don't want to force you."

"You're not. I miss home and our family. And if that means that you could get home sooner, I don't see why we shouldn't go there immediately tomorrow." She said sternly.

It stung him when she told him that. But he understands why she wanted to get rid of him as soon as possible.

"I'll explain when you're ready to listen." He answered.

Home it is.

[discotreque]

Disco 3.09: Terra Firma (Part 1)

That scene of [spoiler] flat on the ground getting just systematically pummeled by [spoiler]—punch after punch after punch after punch—was a perfect metaphor for what the themes this season have been doing to me emotionally. It’s been a pleasant, if occasionally heart-wrenching, surprise to feel something about this show besides “whoa, cool CGI!” or bone-chilling dread—but hopefully Season 4 won’t feel quite so much like it’s being aired directly at me.

So I went zero for two on last week’s predictions in the first goddamn scene, lmao. Turns out the post-TNG combadge on Vor’s early-TNG uniform was just a VFX mixup in the trailer, since he’s seen with the correct oval-backed delta in the actual episode—so that’s neither a meaningful plot element nor a cute inside joke about historical accuracy over the centuries, shame. Still got to see Gersha Phillips’s take on a spandex front-zip, though—that piping! *chef’s kiss*

I also thought Georgiou’s condition was “obviously” something engineered by David Cronenberg’s character (subtitles say his name is Kovich). Apparently he didn’t cause what’s happening to her; he’s just here to explain it. Now if only he’d explain what the fuck is up with his tie...

Speaking of the unfortunate Lt. Cmdr. Yor—he was from the fucking Kelvin timeline??? I wasn’t sure they’d ever acknowledge that in prime canon—and I don’t think the mainline Trek universe has ever been called “the prime universe” diagetically until now, either. (“Why not The Mongooses? That’s a good team name! The Fighting Mongooses.”) I especially love what a small connection it is: one guy crossed over from there, a long time ago, in what was apparently a one-off incident. (He also arrived a year before Lower Decks S1 is set—will we see an animated Vor on the Cerritos next year?)

Tilly: *aggressively eats lunch with you*

You can see how the hope and idealism of Discovery’s crew has softened Admiral Vance—his conversation with Captain Saru was so mentorly and almost tender that it gave me the terrible, terrible feeling that his character growth, and especially his soft “See you when you get back,” mean that he’s definitely going to be killed by Ossyra before they actually get back :(

Likewise, Georgiou’s goodbye scene with Saru and Tilly was a transparent attempt to manipulate my emotions, and guess what? I was successfully manipulated 😭😭😭

As a “computer person” myself, I found Adira forgetting to un-pause their descrambling program—then thinking, since it wasn’t running, it had broken—almost painfully relatable 😩 Also in that scene, Stamets sticks up for Gray’s presumable intentions in (sorry for this...) ghosting Adira (...it was right there!), and Adira says, correctly, “but he doesn’t get to decide what’s good for me”—and speaking of painfully relatable moments, I loved Stamets’s reaction there.

When you’re an adult of a certain age and you’re talking to someone a fair bit younger, you’re sometimes confronted with the uncomfortable reality that wisdom rarely comes from quantity of experience alone. To grow wise, you have to experience things that teach you important lessons, and you have to be willing to learn from those things. That can happen at 16 or 46, and realizing it’s more about luck than time when you’re closer to 46 than 16 can give you a little existential vertigo. It’s a lovely grace note in Stamets and Adira’s relationship (and Anthony and Blu’s performances!) that Paul doesn’t always have the high ground when it comes to emotional intelligence.

SPEAKING OF PERFORMANCES, just drive a truck full of Emmy statues up to the Martin-Green household and dump it out on the lawn. Every one of Prime Michael’s pangs of hurt and confusion and desperate affection for Phillipa comes through loud and clear—and Mirror Michael is just unhinged. Sonequa Martin-Green is one of the greatest acting talents any Star Trek production has ever had, she’s clearly having the time of her life sinking her teeth into this role, and it’s a genuine fucking privilege to watch her work every week. I can’t decide whether I want Evil Michael Burnham to have a SUPERLATIVELY AWESOME death scene or show up again down the line as a recurring villain—but this is Star Trek, so you never know, we could easily get both.

David Ajada shows up to collect a paycheque, ask Saru if there’s room in the A-plot yet for Book (not this week, sadly), and walk around looking like the goddamn Wikipedia entry for "compulsory heterosexuality" in yet another long black sweater from H&M’s 2019 "Gender? I don’t know her" collection. (Face it: there’s no man more attractive than a fictional one written by a lesbian.)

I guessed last week (privately; no points) that the barren planet we saw them on in the trailers was going to have some kind of Guardian of Forever situation, but I didn’t expect Paul Guilfoyle to be there, and I did not expect Carl—who, sort of like how Book has a Star Wars vibe, feels right out of Doctor Who.

(The only other headline in Carl’s newspaper that I could make out, by the way, besides the big one about the emperor, was about the USS Jenolan having gone missing—the ship that crashed into the Dyson Sphere with Scotty in its transporter buffer, as seen in TNG’s “Relics.” Easter egg? Or plot point???)

Michelle Yeoh has been so great in so many ways on this show, but she outdoes herself in this episode, in every single scene. Just like Michael Burnham, Georgiou was conceived as a one-season character—she wasn’t designed to have room to grow—and Season 2 didn’t really do anything to write her out of that corner. Season 3, though, has done a really compelling job of giving her interesting things to do and interesting ways to change.

And sending her back to the motherfucking Mirror Universe is possibly the most interesting way to show just how much she has changed, holy shit. (I guess Carl didn’t read about the Interdimensional Displacement Restrictions in that newspaper of his.)

There are two legitimate reasons for sending characters to an AU with extremely out-of-character doppelgangers: to highlight something about our regulars through contrast, and/or to let the actors vamp. The MU arc in Season 1 was grim and almost entirely joyless, and didn’t really shine a light on anything in the prime universe—it was just a generic escalation of stakes for our heroes. The Klingon War was the frying pan, and the MU was the fire.

This time we actually learn things about these people: Georgiou, of course, but also that the “real” Captain Killy has a lot more of Prime Tilly’s trademark nervous disposition than Prime Tilly pretending to be Captain Killy. (Too bad Killy’s destined to get blown up by Klingons with the ISS Disco in the Prime Universe.) It was also a ton of fun to see Rhys and Owo as deadly rivals, Rekha Sharma as Evil(...er?) Landry again, and Bryce throwing knives in the mess hall—at, please correct me if I’m wrong, a brunette Hannah Cheeseman as an un-augmented Airiam?????

Also, I don’t know why they got Mirror Stamets of all people (inventor of the evil spore drive—not, as far as we know, also an evil slam poet) for that dramatic recital at the evil ribbon dance, except I know exactly why: he’s played by Anthony Rapp, who’s a goddamn treasure. And Georgiou changed the timeline here—Mirror Stamets was still alive to get phasered by Mirror Lorca in S1—but I hope we come back to the MU in Season 5 and Stamets is somehow, inexplicably, still around—only to get killed in a hilariously blasé way again, because—again—he genuinely sucks at like, the logistics of betraying people.

Finally, those adorable little DOT-7 drones... but make them eeeeeeeevil.

Next week: We must leave behind all of that which destroys us. A mood for 2021 if ever I’ve heard one. (Plus, Mirror Saru grabs a dude—either Mirror Culber or someone else in medical red—and bodyslams said dude into the ceiling, which... is also a mood for 2021, tbh.)

[the-homicidediaries]

Chris Benoit

Guys.

I am so excited to talk about this.

Not because of the context, but because this is one of the reasons I love wrestling so much; there’s so much that goes on behind the scenes that people have NO CLUE about.

There have been several professional wrestlers who have killed people or been killed themselves and the rabbit hole goes deep.

(Rey Mysterio accidentally killed a man on live tv and they still have the video up on YouTube.)

(Jimmy ‘Superfly’ Snuka murdered his girlfriend in May of 1983. Who is Jimmy Snuka? Jimmy Snuka was related to The Rock, Rikishi, and The Uso’s.)

THERE ARE SO MANY MORE THO.

But today, I want to talk about the Daddy of them all, Chris Benoit.

Chris Benoit’s crimes are so heinous and unforgivable Vince McMahon has swept his name under the rug and removed him from The Hall of Fame.

Benoit’s crimes also changed the dynamic of professional wrestling forever.

Chris Benoit was born in Montreal, Quebec to Michael and Margaret Benoit on May 21, 1967. He and his family resided in Edmonton, Alberta, however.

During Benoit’s childhood, he idolized Tom “Dynamite Kid” Billington (a British wrestler who competed in the 1980’s and had ongoing feuds with Hart) and Bret “Hitman” Hart (a Canadian-American wrestler and a member of the notorious Hart Family. He is a personal fave of mine as well).

When Benoit was 12 years old, he attended a local wrestling event where both Dynamite Kid and Hart were competing and he knew right then and there that he was destined to become a wrestler.

He trained in The Hart Family “dungeon” and was coached by none other than Stu Hart (Bret and Owen Hart’s father. If you don’t know Owen Hart, you should google him as well because he died under bizarre circumstances on live tv as well.)

When Benoit fought in the ring, he channeled both Dynamite Kid and Hart, even adopting Hart’s signature move, “Sharpshooter” as his finishing move.

Chris began wrestling in 1985 in Stu Hart’s Stampede Wrestling promotion. He was quickly recognized as a force to be reckoned with and received his first title, the Stampede British Commonwealth Mid-Heavyweight Championship, on March 18, 1988.

(This dude has a very extensive history or wrestling in New Japan Pro-Wrestling, World Champion Wrestling, Extreme Champion Wrestling, and World Wrestling Federation/Entertainment, but I just.. I cain’t get into all that, please forgive me. Haha! We are talking 22 years here! So I am humbly skipping to his family life.)

-Okay, so. I would love for this to be a romantic love story for the ages and the deaths resulted in crimes of passion, but that didn’t happen. At. All. Not at all.

You’ll see soon why this was all brushed under the rug.-

Benoit was married twice.

His first wife, Martina, and he had two children David (who is a wrestler as well) and Megan. By 1997, their marriage had broken down and Benoit and Martina decided it was best to end it.

Benoit began living with his girlfriend, Nancy Sullivan, who was the girlfriend of Benoit’s frequent opponent, Kevin Sullivan.

(It started off as an on-screen relationship for views and it led to a real-life affair. Many people joke that Kevin Sullivan booked his own divorce.)

On February 25, 2000, Benoit and Nancy’s son, Daniel, was born.

On November 23, 2000, Benoit and Nancy were married.

This 👏🏼 was 👏🏼 not 👏🏼 a 👏🏼 good 👏🏼 marriage.

In 2003, Nancy filed for divorce from Benoit, saying he would break and throw furniture and was cruel to her. She later dropped the suit as well as the restraining order she had set against him.

Benoit became good friends with fellow wrestler Eddie Guerrero, (a beloved and incredible wrestler, one of my dad’s faves), following a match in Japan, when Benoit kicked Guerrero in the head and knocked him out cold. This started a friendship that lasted even after Guerrero's death in late 2005, in which Benoit had written diary entries to him just ten days after his passing.

(I’m only mentioning this because Guerrero’s death has been rumored to be one of the reasons Benoit did what he did.)

Here’s where it gets gory.

So we know Benoit and Nancy did not have a good marriage, but things seemed to be okay because she dropped all the charges against him.

Benoit and Nancy were living in Fayetteville, GA, with 7 year old Daniel.

On June 25, 2007, police entered the Benoit home after Benoit’s WWE employers requested a welfare check after Benoit missed weekend events without notice.

(Benoit was actually scheduled to win another title during these weekend events.)

Upon arriving at his Georgia home, authorities found Nancy wrapped in a towel. She had died from asphyxiation.

Their son was also found, also dead, apparently strangled. Benoit placed a Bible next to each of their bodies.

Benoit’s body was the most disturbing to be found. The wrestler was hanged on a lat pulldown machine, with a Bible lying on the weight machine beside him. There were also allegedly 10 empty beer cans and an empty bottle of wine.

Autopsies concluded the murders and suicide took place over the course of three days.

On Friday, June 22, Chris Benoit killed his wife Nancy in an upstairs bedroom. Her limbs were bound, and her body was wrapped in a towel. A copy of the bible was left by her body. Injuries indicated that Benoit had pressed a knee into her back while pulling on a cord around her neck, causing strangulation. Officials said that there were no signs of immediate struggle. Toxicologists did find alcohol in her system, but they were unable to determine if she had been drinking prior to her death or if it was a product of decomposition.

Daniel was suffocated and killed in his bedroom, and a copy of the bible was left by his body. Daniel had internal injuries to the throat area, showing no bruises. Daniel's exact time of death is unknown. The reports determined Daniel was sedated with Xanax and likely unconscious when he was killed. Daniel's body had also just started to show signs of decomposition but was not as far along as his mother's body, so they were able to determine he was murdered after his mother.

(It was later alleged that Daniel had Fragile X syndrome, a genetic disorder that is characterized by mild to moderate intellectual disability. Physical features may include a long and narrow face, large ears, flexible fingers, and large testicles. About a third of those affected have features of autism such as problems with social interactions and delayed speech. Males are affected more than females. Daniel also had needle marks in his arm and it’s alleged that these were the result of growth hormones given to him because Benoit and his family considered him to be undersized.)

Chris Benoit committed suicide by hanging. Benoit used a weight machine cord to hang himself by creating a noose from the end of the cord on a pull-down machine from which the bar had been removed. Benoit released the weights, causing his strangulation. Benoit was found hanging from the pulley cable.

(On a podcast called The Talk is Jericho in 2016, Nancy’s sister Sandra Toffoloni divulged some more information. She said Benoit’s internet search history showed he had searched “the quickest and easiest way to break a neck”. Benoit had a towel wrapped around his neck when he committed suicide and his neck was broken instantly.)

A suicide note was not discovered, but a note written in one of the bibles Benoit had said, “I’m preparing to leave this Earth.”

A few possible motives I’ve seen people mention have included:

•CTE - Chronic traumatic encephalopathy is a neurodegenerative disease caused by repeated head injuries. Symptoms do not typically begin until years after the injuries and can include behavioral problems, mood problems, and problems with thinking. During his autopsy, it was concluded that Benoit did suffer from CTE after wrestling for so many years. (Back when they threw people from tops of cages, hit each other over the head with chairs and ladders, etc.) Autopsy experts say Benoit’s brain was so severely damaged that it resembled a 85 year old Alzheimer’s patient.

•Nancy’s abuse and filing for divorce - In February 2008, The Atlanta Journal-Constitution reported that Benoit was having an affair with a female WWE wrestler and Nancy found out. It was also speculated they argued over life insurance policies.

•Benoit’s alcohol abuse - Benoit abused steroids, but many people believe it was his alcohol abuse that led to these horrific murders. Many of Benoit’s colleagues attested he would drink more when problems with Nancy occurred.

•Eddie Guerrero’s death - Benoit and Guerrero and Benoit were very close. When it came out that Guerrero has died in his hotel room in November of 2005, Benoit was devastated. WWE held a televised memorial for Guerrero and when Benoit was giving his testimony, he broke down in front of the camera. Some of Benoit’s colleagues say, “he was never the same” after Guerrero’s death.

But at the expense of sounding completely heartless, (mind you, I’ve been suicidal myself), why didn’t he just commit suicide?

Why did he have to murder his wife and seven year old son? If we go with the CTE theory, it makes sense because he was not thinking rationally.

I wish Nancy had had the strength to leave him when she tried.

The night after Benoit’s body was found, WWE Raw had a televised memorial for him and his family with Vince McMahon standing in the middle of the ring breaking the news and a video montage.

No one knew he was the one who had killed his family.

When it was later revealed that Benoit had committed these crimes the episode was removed and WWE made the decision to remove nearly all mention of Benoit from their website, future publications, video games, merchandise, DVD/Blu-Rays, and future events.

Like I said.. swept him under the rug.

Benoit is now the “He Who Shall Not Be Named” of professional wrestling.

In ending this, I’d like to quote Stone Cold Steve Austin now.

“Well first and foremost, what I think about Chris Benoit is that guy was one of the most nicest guys I ever met in my life. He’s one of the most talented, hard working cats I’d ever seen in the squared circle. Anybody who knew Chris would tell you those exact two things. That guy loved the damn wrestling business, he was born to be a wrestler and was absolutely phenomenal. Drawing a lot of his influence from The Dynamite Kid, he blazed a path as the Pegasus Kid and his legacy as The Crippler Chris Benoit was just one hellacious career.

“One night, Chris ended up killing his wife and his kid. That is an act so terrible and horrible I can’t even comprehend or guess as to what happened in that house. That will always overshadow any accomplishment Chris had in the ring. He’ll never be in the Hall of Fame, it will just never happen. His career will speak for itself but his record as a human being, his first and foremost, and those actions will never be forgotten. That’s my feelings on that, we don’t even need to talk about the Hall of Fame. Speaking for myself, Chris Benoit as the person I knew, loved him. Chris Benoit as a wrestler, loved him. Chris Benoit as the person who did what he did, unforgivable. Bottom line.” – via NoDQ.com.

Pictured below are Chris and Nancy Benoit, their son Daniel, and their home in Fayetteville, Georgia.

[cthomashoodstory]

Best Years but Not in the Same Way (10)

Calum Hood x Reader (Saara Palvin)

Previous Part

I’m sorry english is not my native

Masterlist

-

As usual, you were in the studio with all the boys. Today, they going to record a song name Want You Back. It was written by you when they were having a tour back in August. You were alone at studio and you wrote in only for an hour. And when you showed it to them, they liked it.

Luke is in recording room to record his voice, Mike is preparing to record the guitar instrument, and Andrew Wells, the producer is preparing some things. While you’re sitting on couch with Calum and Ashton.

“So how’s the progress with you and guitar?” Ashton asked you. You were grinned and he laughed. “Seriously? You learned it since February miss.” Then he glanced at Calum. “Oh you Mr. Hood, you didn’t teach her properly, or should I teach her? Should i?” He winked at Calum.

“No bro, no.” His face is turned red and we are all laughing. “I will give her a private lesson by my own.”

Then they were talking and you didn’t pay attention to them. You start to play your guitar with whatever chord that will match to your writing. Apparently you just wrote a song yesterday and now you want to show it to them.

“Every moment spent, i wish i was with you,” you began to sing with the guitar melody. “And every night i slept, i dream i was with you.”

“That’s nice miss,” Ashton gave you a compliment.

You smiled. “Of course I’m a very cool songwriter, huh?” You gave him a cocky face. Calum was just like ‘wtf’ and it really showed in his face.

“Oh you want a duel? Lets have a duel!” Ashton challenging you and you said yes. “I’m with Calum and you’re with Mike. Mike would you come here for a sec?” Michael came and he looked so confused. “Mike, you will team up with miss cocky face, and i team up with Calum and we will battling in a writting song. Andrew will be the judge and Luke... also the judge. The song has to be genuine, original and never heard before.”

You chuckled. “So whats the price of the winner?” You asked him smugly. “What if the loser have to buy us coffee for a week, and the winner will feature the song on the album?”

“Fucking deal.” Michael yelled and high five you.

“Alright then, so i will go to this corner with Ash, and you two will go to that corner.” Calum and Ashton walked away from you two.

And then you and Michael went to the opposite corner. “Miss we can’t lose this game. I really love to compete with them.” “So what do you got? Because I’m suck at writting. And i will find the melody faster that anyone here.”

“So i have this lyric i made it last year when i was just broke up with someone and i never gave it to someone so i think maybe this is the right time to pull this shit out.” You explained. “So the first verse is ‘switching into airplane mode again, we’re not alright but I’ll pretend. I press my cheek against the glass, just be good till i get back.” Then Michael found the perfect melody for this song. “The ground disappears i hold the tears, i check my phone to see your face staring back as if to say...,” then you paused. “Do you have any idea? Cause I’m stuck at finding the right words.”

“Don’t worry... uh you won’t be lonely?” He gave you a very good line even thought he didn’t sure about it.

“Mike that’s so good so the bridge will be ‘don’t worry you won’t be lonely... Okay so the chorus will be like ‘why won’t you love me? Yeah why won’t you love me? Yeah.” You continued it.

“Wait wait wait, what if the chorus be like ‘whyyyyyyy won’t you love me in high pitched voice? Whyyyyyy won’t you love me.” He really snapped you.

Then you underline the sentence and give a note. “That is so sick! Oh my God! Okay so the chorus is whyyyyyyy won’t you love... whyyyyyy won’t you love me? You imagine when you close your eyes, you’re with me on the other side so whyyyyyyy won’t you love me.” Mike play the guitar riff alongside with you singing and itu turns out very good.

“I swear to God we will win this.” Mike high five you. “I can’t wait to see their faces when we sang this song.” Mike looked so happy that he about to outwin them.

“Who’s going to sing? Are you going to sing?” You asked him.

He shook his head. “Nah, you will sing it and i will backing on the bridge and the chorus, what do you think?” And you nodded.

“We’re done.” Ashton shouted proudly. Well honestly you didn’t know whats on Ash today. He challenged you out from nowhere just because i gave him a cocky face for being a cool songwriter. And you accept it because it was some kind of joke right? Seriously you couldn’t tell yourself if he’s mad or not. But one thing for sure you will win this game. Not trying to under estimate them. They’re very talented musicians they even wrote their songs by their own. But still they can’t beat you lyrically.

Luke and Andrew were ready to be judge. They sat in the middle of you and Ashton. “The challegers should be the one to start the game,” said Luke.

“Aight, our song is called Midnight, written by Ashton Irwin and Calum Hood.” Calum did an opening speech and Ashton began to sing and Calum start playing the guitar.

“Why you acting like a stranger

When we do this every night?

Can we get a little closer

Even though you're not that type?

Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh

You only ever wanna love me after midnight

You only ever wanna love me after midnight

I've never seen you in the daylight

'Cause you only ever wanna love me after midnight

But it's better than nothing.”

Luke, Andrew, Mike and You gave them an applause. “It gaves me chill.” Luke said it while laughing and you could tell he’s just joking.

“Okay now the opposite team, Miss B and Mikey.” Luke introduced your team.

You smiled first. “The song called Why Won’t You Love Me by me and Mike. Enjoy.” And then Mike start to play the guitar riff.

“Switching into airplane mode again

We're not alright but I'll pretend

I press my cheek against the glass

Just be good 'til I get back

The ground disappears

I hold back the tears

I check my phone to see your face

Staring back as if to say

Don't worry, you won't be lonely

Why won't you love me?

Why won't you love me?

You imagine when you close your eyes

You're with me on the other side

So why won't you love me?”

“Team Mira (Michael Saara) woooooo,” Luke yelled as a sign that he choose us than Ashton’s team.

“I couldn’t lie Saara and Michael are the winner.” Andrew added.

Mike and you jumped and hugged. “We won!” Mike yelled to your ears. “Free coffee for a week. Woohoo!” We pulled the hug and we faced Ashton and Calum. “We cool huh?” Mike asked Ashton.

“We definitely put Why Won’t You Love Me song to our album.” Said Ashton and he hugged you. “No beef between us?” We both laughed.

And then i approach Calum. “Can we talk?” He nodded and we went to corner beside the door. “Uh I’ve been thinking and... i want to give you back what’s yours.” You took out your key apartment from your pocket and handed it to him.

“Your apartment key? Are you sure?” He looked so surprised and happy at the same time.

“Yeah,” you smiled. “I’m pretty sure i want you to have it again.” You used to gave him back in 2014 with an intention so that him or the boys could easily came in to your apartment without you open the door. But the JB thing happened and you took away the key from him.

“Oh and-“ You swear to God he was about to pulled something out from his jeans pocket but we got interrupted by Nia.

“Cal we should go now.” She said it to him and she realized you were standing there beside Calum. “Hey girl.” She hugged you. “We should go now, they waiting outside.” She looked at you who’s been confused with their conversation. “We are going to park to pet our dogs” “See you soon, Miss B.” She waved and leave the studio room.

You have been forgot to remember that Calum is still in contact with Nia. Your heart suddenly shattered again. You thought you could have something with Calum but turns out you can’t. He would choose her over you.

“I gotta go, you want to join us?” He asked you awkwardly.

“No, i have to go home actually, bye.” You waved at him and he’s gone behind the door.

You took your bag and your belongings and you ordered an Uber.

“C’mon lemme drive you home.” Ashton took away my phone before you press the order button.

-

To be continued

Next Part

[lilacsos]

Denial LH Part One

A/N: Howdy! This is the first thing I’ve written in a hot minute and I actually really like it. Fun fact when I first thought of this I thought of Spencer Reid from Criminal Minds so yeah. All flashbacks are in italics :)

Words: 4330

Pairing: Luke x Gender Neutral Reader

*Warnings*: Mentions of cheating and throwing stuff, I think like one swear word, oh and I named someone Nicole because I needed a name so sorry if that’s your name

Summary: You and Luke are close childhood friends. Despite what Ashton says, you’re just friends, nothing more and nothing less. Right?

Masterlist  Taglist (newest one)  *if you were on any previous taglist please put your info on this one*

“Come on Luke! We can’t be late!” The squeaky voice of a small child shouted as they ran down the sidewalk, running as fast as their short legs could carry them.

Behind them, a young blonde boy rushed to try and keep up. “Don’t leave me behind! We have to stay together; my mom will be very upset if I tell her you left me!” The other person groaned and stopped moving while a triumphant smirk made its way onto Luke’s face. “Besides, it’s also your fault that we’re running late Y/N.”

With a roll of your eyes, you crossed your arms over your chest and tapped your foot on the ground as you waited. “Luke we both stopped to pet the dog but you stopped first and like you said, your mom will be very upset if I left you.” You giggled, your own smirk forming. Once Luke finally caught up, you grabbed the young boy by the wrist and dragged him as you continued to run home. You and your family moved into the house next to Luke only three months ago but the two of you quickly became friends and now walked home from school together. You were only ever late once and the disappointed look from Mrs. Hemmings was enough to make sure you were never late again.

You both kept running and in the distance, you could see your houses. With a look at his watch, Luke slowed down to walk. “We have enough time to walk. Unless you enjoy running.” Luke smiled as you also slowed down, walking in step with him. “What do you think of Mr. Martin’s project?”

“I can’t believe he wants us to write a whole paragraph about what we want to be when we grow up! We’re seven!” You threw your hands up into the air with an exasperated whine. “I don’t know what I wanna be. Do you?”

“Yeah!” Luke’s eyes lit up in the afternoon sun and his lips curved into possibly the biggest smile to ever be seen. He bounced a little as he walked and his hands flew out in front of him as he said, “I’m gonna be a rockstar! I’ll sing and play a guitar and have a really cool band. I’ll be so rich and famous I could buy all of Australia!”

Despite Luke’s contagious excitement, you grew quiet, kicking away a pebble. Luke continued to share his dream as you walked the rest of the way home. As you approached the houses, you could each see Mrs. Hemmings through the kitchen window and the smell of dinner wafted out of the open front door. “Luke,” you began, stopping Luke from walking. “When you’re a famous rockstar, promise you won’t forget me.”

Luke cocked his head to the side but his smile never faded. “Of course I won’t forget you! You’re my best friend in the whole world. I could never forget you.” His arms wrapped around you, tugging you close as he tried to hug the worry out of you. “Hey, maybe you can be my maid.” Luke giggled as he was pushed away.

“Then I would have to clean up after you! I’ll never be your maid!” You squealed and ran to your front door and Luke ran to his.

“You’ll change your mind when you see the paycheck!”

“Hello? Earth to Y/N!” You shook your head as the memory faded and the current world took its place. Luke rolled his eyes and shoved your shoulder, gesturing to the man waiting to take your order.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” You mumbled before giving him your order. The other people at the table laughed which only caused you to roll your eyes. “Will you four shut up?” You and Luke were no longer seven like you were in your memory but most things didn’t change. He still told you horrible jokes when you were upset, you still played rock-paper-scissors when you couldn’t decide who got shotgun, and you were still best friends. Just like Luke told you all those years ago, he became a rockstar. He got to sing and play guitar with a ‘really cool’ band. As Luke’s best friend, Michael, Calum, and Ashton easily became your other best friends and you continued to be the number one 5 Seconds of Summer fan. Out of all of them, excluding Luke, you were the closest to Ashton. He was very easy to get along with; his only flaw is that he had this outlandish idea that you were in love with Luke.

“What were you thinking about anyway?” Ashton asked, sipping his coffee. There was a glint in his eyes that you couldn’t quite place. Maybe it was mischief or maybe the morning light was changing things.

“Just when Luke and I were kids and he told me he was going to be a rockstar.”

“And I offered to let you be my maid but you refused my offer.” Luke chuckled and bumped your shoulder again.

Michael snorted and rolled his eyes. “So even as a child Y/N didn’t want to put up with your bullshit.” The table erupted with laughs and Luke’s arm wrapped around your shoulder, tugging you close to his chest as he smooshed your cheeks together between his fingers. You giggled and jabbed your fingers into his sides, causing him to squeal and let you go. Luke continued to giggle and the sound made your heart warm. His laugh was easily your favorite sound in the world. If you ever had a horrible day, all you needed was to hear Luke’s laugh to turn your day around. A smile easily appeared on your face as you looked to your left to see Luke smiling back at you. You stayed like that for a moment until the waiter came back and set your brunch in front of you.

Before you dug into your meal, you could have sworn you saw Ashton nudge Calum while smirking in your direction.

...

“I feel like I just ate my body weight in pancakes.” Calum groaned and slouched down in his chair. A murmur of agreement came from the others around the table before Ashton cleared his throat.

“We can always work off brunch by going on a walk.” You couldn’t help but to roll your eyes; of course Ashton would be the one to suggest a walk. With their own sounds of disapproval, the boys shook their heads. “Oh come on. There’s a nice park close by.”

Luke sighed and shrugged. “I’m sure it’s nice Ash but taking a walk in the park isn’t going to be easy for us.” He had a point. It was hard for any of the boys to go places without their pictures being taken or getting stopped. Of course they loved getting to talk to fans but sometimes they just wanted to have a normal day.

“Fine if you three won’t come with, will you Y/N?” Ashton asked, his bottom lip jutting out in a pout as he leaned across the table, taking your hands into his. You were going to agree with him that a walk sounded wonderful but you didn’t even have the chance to answer him. “Great!” He tugged you away from the table, gathering your things for you before he rushed off towards the park.

“Well,” you began with a sigh, glancing back at Luke. “Guess I’ll see you guys after my walk. See you later Mike, Cal, Bubs.” With that, you ran after Ashton, punching his shoulder when you caught up to him. “What was that for? I was going to go with you so you didn’t need to force me.”

Ashton shrugged and threw his arm around your shoulders. “I wanted to talk to you without anyone snooping and since the other three didn’t want to come, it seemed like a good chance to talk.”

Your heart pounded in your chest and your hands grew clammy. You had nothing to be scared of but you couldn’t help how your fight or flight instinct kicked in and right about now, you were ready to run away as fast as you could. “About what?”

A soft chuckle rumbled through his chest at your question. “I just wanted to ask if you thought you were being slick.” What? You stopped walking and looked over at him. What on earth was he talking about? You must have looked as confused as you felt because he continued. “I mean you really don’t think we can’t tell about your little crush right? Luke might be dense but not everyone else is.”

A groan escaped your lips and you rolled your eyes, continuing your walk as your heart rate returned to normal. “How many times do I have to tell you, I don’t have a crush on Luke.”

“Of course you do Y/N. You always sit next to him, you’re constantly touching him, and god the dopey look you get when you look at him. You can’t tell me you never felt anything more than friendship.”

Ashton looked ready to continue but a group of young girls walked over and asked for photos. You’ve never been more thankful for fans than you were in that moment. Luke was just your friend and that was it. There was no other emotion and Ashton needed to let it go. Of course there was that time he was dared to kiss you.

You were both 16 and hormones mostly controlled your brain. In only a few short weeks, your boys would be going off to tour with One Direction. You were flooded with pride when Luke told you about the tour and you both promised to spend as much time together as you could before he left. You and the four boys crammed yourselves into Luke’s bedroom, stuffing your faces with snacks and giggling at the horrible dares you all came up with. At some point, Michael dared Calum to slow dance with Luke’s brother Jack and while he did it, the dare was lame.

“Luke, your turn. Truth or dare.” Calum asked, leaning against the bed as he tried to throw some popcorn into his mouth.

“I’ll go with dare.” Luke chuckled and leaned over, elbowing you in the side. “Cal has the worst dares so it can’t be that bad.”

Calum smirked and took a quick glance at Ashton before speaking. “Well then, I dare you to kiss Y/N.” Silence filled the room as you and Luke looked at each other. You could feel your body start to heat up and you told yourself it was just because you were embarrassed, not because you liked Luke. Luke looked as red as you felt and you wondered if he was just scared or if there was something else. But you quickly shot that thought down; Luke was your best friend so certainly he didn’t have any feelings for you. Which was great because you didn’t have any towards him.

“Pick a different dare Calum. I can’t kiss Y/N, they haven’t kissed anyone before.” It was true. You had never kissed anyone before and it didn’t bother you since it doesn’t matter when you kiss someone. But was that really the only reason Luke didn’t want to kiss you? Calum did just say that he had to kiss you, not shove his tongue down your throat. Luke looked between you and Calum, trying to figure out just what to do. Calum shrugged and crossed his arms over his chest, watching Luke begin to lose his mind. “Is this alright with you? If you don’t want this then we don’t have to.”

You nodded and rubbed your hands on the carpet. “It’s fine Bubs. At least my first kiss will be with someone that actually cares about me and not some jerk.” You said with a nervous laugh, hoping that Luke wouldn’t be upset that you were fine with it.

“Right, ok then.” Luke mumbled and scooted over to you, his shaky hands coming to rest on your cheeks. “I’m gonna kiss you now.” You nodded and Luke took one last look at Calum over his shoulder before he leaned in. His lips quickly pressed against yours and you were surprised at how soft they were. You were also surprised at how nice and natural it felt to have his mouth moving against yours; you didn’t want it to end. He was warm and the way his lips fit yours almost perfectly was new and wonderful. You weren’t exactly sure what a kiss was supposed to feel like but you felt light and like you were floating on a cloud. Everything around you faded away and in that moment, it was just you and Luke, lip locked. Quickly and suddenly, Luke pulled away and sat back in his spot, rubbing his lips with his fingers. His face was flushed an even darker shade of red and the room suddenly felt like it was 50 degrees hotter. The other three boys giggled and Ashton winked at you.

“So how was your first kiss?” Michael snorted and looked at Luke who was looking at anything but you. How were you supposed to answer that? You certainly weren’t going to tell anyone how nice it felt but you couldn't say it was bad and hurt Luke.

“It was a kiss? How was it supposed to feel?” You decided it was a good enough answer.

“No fireworks? No butterflies or tingling sensations?” Ashton asked, leaning forward. Maybe that was a good way to describe your feelings but before you could come up with a lie, Luke jumped to his feet and ran out the door, mumbling about getting water. You glared and shoved Ashton as you ran after Luke, catching up to him in the kitchen.

“Are you alright?” You whispered, feeling like anything louder would break open a dam of emotions you weren’t ready to tackle. Luke sighed and leaned against the counter, gesturing for you to do the same.

“I should be asking you that. I just took your first kiss because of a dumb game.” He shoved his hands into his jean pockets and rocked on the balls of his feet. “Are you ok?”

“Of course.” It was a lie. You didn’t feel fine at all. You were confused and worried about just how nice that kiss was. “Luke if I wasn’t alright with it then I would have said something.” He nodded but remained quiet. For a few moments, neither of you talked or moved; you just watched the cars out the window as they drove by. “So, are you alright?”

Luke nodded and turned, looking at you for the first time in ten minutes. “I am, I just don’t want this to mess anything up or ruin our friendship. I mean I just kissed you, it was a little weird.” He laughed.

Right. He didn’t feel anything for you and so of course this was weird for him. Not that it wasn’t weird for you too because you didn’t like him. You rolled your eyes, shoving your confusion down for the time being and elbowed Luke. “Nothing is going to change our friendship, not even a weird kiss.”

Luke smiled and bumped his shoulder against yours. Despite telling yourself that you felt nothing towards your best friend, you couldn’t stop the queasy feeling in your stomach as Luke looked at you. You must have eaten something weird because there was no way you were feeling butterflies. “Let’s get back to the guys. Maybe we can make Calum kiss Michael as payback.”

You blinked away the memory, feeling Ashton’s eyes on you. The fans must have left when you were zoned out since you didn’t see anyone around. “So, you’re sure you don’t like Luke?”

“Yes Ashton. I’m sure so can you drop it?”

“I’ll drop it when you realize you’re in denial.” He said with a shrug while you both continued on your walk.

“It isn’t denial. You’re just imagining things.”

...

A week later, Luke texted you and the other boys about a party he was going to throw at his house. He didn’t tell you exactly why he wanted to throw a party but he did mention he had an announcement and an important question for you. Your first thought was that he was going to ask you out but you convinced yourself that you were just confused. Ashton refused to back off and he constantly told you that you were in denial. At this point, you almost believed him.

The night of the party, you got dressed and waited for Ashton to pick you up. He was out picking up some drinks so he told you he would pick you up and drive you home. Well, he didn’t exactly say he would drive you home. He was positive that a certain blonde boy would be inviting you to stay the night with him tonight. Ashton must be confused because Luke wasn’t going to ask you out. He’s still so hurt from his last relationship that ended only a few months ago.

The sound of your phone ringing had woken you up late one night. Normally you would have ignored the call but when you saw Luke’s name light up on the screen, you answered. “Luke? What is it? It’s three in the morning.” He didn’t answer but on the other end, you could hear his sniffles and what sounded like a choked sob. “Luke? Bubs what is it? Talk to me.”

“She cheated on me.” He sounded so small and broken; fury rushed through your veins. You never liked his girlfriend but he was happy with her. Now that all has changed. You threw your blankets off your bed and tugged on a jacket and some slippers.

“I’ll be there in five minutes.” His soft reply was almost too hard to hear before he hung up the phone. All you wanted to do was find this girl and beat her into the ground but Luke needed you. He was always a sensitive boy and this was going to crush him. He cried watching Finding Nemo as a 23 year old for god’s sake; how was he going to survive this? You quickly ran out the door and made your way to Luke’s house as quickly as you could. When you pulled up, you fumbled with your keys, searching for the one he had given you. Finally you found it and unlocked the door, coming in to see Luke on the couch, surrounded by broken furniture and staring blankly at the wall. Wordlessly, you stepped over the mess and sat next to him, pulling his head to rest on your chest. As soon as he made contact, the tears poured out and his body quaked as the sobs tore out of his throat. Your hands found his hair, combing through the curls in a hope to comfort him. There was nothing you could say to make this better, you both knew that. All you could do was hold him until he was ready to talk.

Almost an hour later, the tears stopped flowing and Luke grew quiet once more. “Want some water?” You asked, drying his face with the sleeves of your jacket. He nodded but when you went to stand, he clung onto you, making you stumble and fall back onto the couch. “I have to stand to get you water Bubs. You can come with.” Luke nodded once more and let you go just long enough for you both to stand before his hand gripped yours, keeping you close. It was hard to avoid stepping on broken glass with the giant man holding onto you but you both managed to get into the kitchen. Once you filled a cup with water, he took it from your grasp, sipping at it as he looked at the mess around you both. The kitchen wasn’t much better as you could see crushed mugs and even a blender on the floor. “Do you want to talk about it? You don’t have to.” Your free hand came back to his hair, brushing it out of his face. You almost expected him to refuse but slowly, he started talking.

“I came home from a party, she didn’t want to go, said she felt sick.” He swallowed thickly and you began to rub his back, encouraging him to continue but not pushing him. “Some asshole was all over her on the couch. Half naked. His hands were,” he took a shaky breath before continuing on a new topic. “She told me it was an accident but how could it have been? He was in my house.” At this, tears fell once more but he continued to talk. “I threw a vase at them. He left and she started yelling and throwing things at me. Said it was my fault she cheated. That she wouldn’t have to if I was around more. We threw more things and then she packed up her shit and she’s gone.”

“Oh god Luke. I’m so sorry.” You took your hand out of his grasp and rested your hands on his cheeks. “What can I do?” He was going to be hurt for a while and nothing could change that. But if there was something, anything, that would make him hurt just a little less, you would do it.

“Can you stay the night? I don’t want to be alone.” He sounded like a child, coming to his parent’s room, asking to sleep with them. You leaned in and kissed his forehead before nodding.

“Of course Bubs. Anything you need, I’ll do it.”

Three sharp knocks on your door broke you out of your trance and you scrambled over to the door, unsure of how long the person had been there. When the door opened, you smiled at Ashton. “Ready to be fashionably late to the party?” He chuckled as he took you to his car. The first half of the drive was pretty quiet, filled with the sounds of the radio. “So,” Ashton began, smiling widely, “how’s the water in denial?”

“What?” You could only assume he was still on his bullshit about you liking Luke but you could never tell with Ashton.

“Denial. You know since you still refuse to believe Luke likes you. He told me he had an important question to ask you tonight so you’d better admit your feelings to yourself fast before he asks you out. He’s in love with you Y/N.”

“You don’t even know if that’s the question Ash.”

“No, I suppose not.” Despite his words, the smile never left his face. Maybe he knew something you didn’t. Was it possible that Luke wanted to ask you out tonight? Maybe Luke had some secret romantic feelings for you that Ashton knew about. Maybe you had some romantic feelings for him. Ashton stopped the car outside of Luke’s house and smirked at you. “Just be ready for anything tonight.”

It was actually a pretty small party which surprised you. It looked like Luke had only invited friends and a few other people in the music industry, which was fine. You actually liked the smaller parties since it felt more normal and not like a rager thrown by a rockstar. Ashton grabbed your arm and dragged you into the house, looking for Luke. He wasn’t too hard to find since he was taller than at least 90% of the people here. He was standing in the living room with Michael and Calum by his side. “You’re here!” Luke cheered, and pulled you in for a hug. “I’m so excited for tonight. I can’t wait to talk to you.”

Butterflies, yes butterflies, jumped around your stomach as you listened to him talk. Shit. Maybe you really did like him. Was it possible that all this time you had just been in denial like Ashton thought? You always found Luke attractive but you never dared to think of him in a more than friendly way. His white shirt only brought out the blue of his eyes that much more and dear lord did his hair look perfect. “Lukey!” A squeal broke you out of your thoughts and from the other side of the room, a girl ran over. You had never seen her before and while you didn’t know all of Luke's friends, you thought you knew most of them. The girl jumped and Luke caught her in his arms before he leaned in and kissed her. Yeah, he was definitely kissing her. Your heart completely shut down as you watched his lips move against hers. He slowly set her back on her feet and with a sheepish smile, he looked back at you and the boys.

“This is what I wanted to tell you guys. This is my girlfriend, Nicole.” All at once, you could feel your heart shatter into a million pieces and your gut dropped down to your feet. That’s not possible. How does Luke have a girlfriend? You watched as he wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her flush against his side as she kissed his cheek. That should be you. You should be the one jumping into his arms and kissing him. He should be holding you like that, not her. Who did she think she was? Was she just dating Luke for the fame and money? Was she using him? You felt a hand on your arm and looked over to see Ashton, who looked like he had seen a ghost. He was wrong. Luke didn’t love you at all. He loved Nicole.

“Y/N? Are you ok?” Ashton whispered, trying to get you to look away from the couple.

“Denial.” You whispered, unsure if the words actually even left your mouth.

“What?”

“Denial Ash. It was denial.” Without another word, you turned and ran out of the house. What the fuck?

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