#Michael is really obsessed with his kitchen and sweets it seems

[devildomwriter]

Mammon’s Embarrassing Stories

[slasherhoe87]

🌹Loving Michael🥀

Chapter 3

Link to Masterlist with all chapters so far: https://www.tumblr.com/slasherhoe87/711619549600137216/loving-michael?source=share

OG Michael x Female Reader

Two mornings after Michael and your escapade at the old Pickens factory you stood in front of your stove making chocolate chip flapjacks for Michael.

Your man had an insatiable sweet tooth and really, the palette of a child.

He didn't want oatmeal for breakfast - he wanted Lucky Charms cereal. He didn't want a chicken salad for lunch - he wanted mac & cheese or a plain cheesy pizza. He didn't want grilled salmon for dinner - he wanted spaghetti & meatballs or lasagna.

You smiled fondly as you flipped over the flapjack before looking up at the wall clock. Good, you thought - you still had quite some time before having to leave for work. You'd thought you would be running late as Michael had insisted on cuddling before you got up, however cuddling turned in to lazy morning sex - as was common with the two of you.

Just as you placed the last of Michael's flapjacks onto a plate you noticed a shape out of the corner of your eye. Turning to look, your heart jumped in your throat with fright.

"Michael!"

Fright gave way to annoyance with no real anger behind it. After living with one another for a full two years, your lurking lover still managed to scare you with his unexpected appearances.

Your frown turned to a smile as he stalked forward to the kitchen table - silent and expressionless as ever.

You took the plate of chocolate chip pancakes, a can of whipped cream and some sliced fruit and placed it in front of him. You leaned down and kissed his forehead (thankful that he had worked through his touch aversion)

While pouring yourself a cup of coffee to have with your toast you look up and out of your kitchen window to see the familiar beige station-wagon drive slowly up the street.

Loomis - your mind spat with anger.

The biggest quack in psychiatry. A man who you thought himself should be locked up in Smith's Grove.

To spend less than a couple of months with a troubled child and deem him evil incarnate - the fuck!? His obsession with Michael was downright creepy.

Every other day before or after work, or when out on errands you would notice him driving about Haddonfield looking for Michael. Yeah, keep wasting money on gas asshole, you'll never get Michael - not while I'm still breathing.

Evil incarnate doesn't smile. Evil incarnate doesn't cuddle or give tender hugs. Evil incarnate doesn't show vulnerability with unshed tears in its eyes as it seeks out comfort away from the dark places in its mind. Evil incarnate doesn't make love or spoil its lover with tender kisses.

You were getting riled up... your thoughts moving onto an even bigger hatred of yours: Laurie fucking Strode. The bitch who thinks she's the 'final girl' of her own damn movie. Michael had intended to kill her only because she had trespassed onto his property - he was not obsessed with her like Laurie believed (or wanted to believe) and when he couldn't kill her due to her own dumb luck he moved on to his next kills.

But Haddonfield is not a large town and for the past two halloweens when Laurie would catch a glimpse of Michael stalking the town she was convinced Michael was after her. He wasn't. You ain't that special, Laurie. And because she believed she was final girl of the century she would go after Michael and try and kill him.

Thanks to this bitch, Michael's one eye is damaged - his vision in the eye mostly still intact but the physical scarring is prominent and he a had big raised, puckered scar on his neck from where she had stabbed him.

Luck seems to be firmly on her side as Michael just can't seem to end her annoying existence. You wished she would just leave Michael alone or if Michael could just finally kill her and be done with it. Then all you had to worry about was Loony Loomis.

You felt a pair of strong, protective arms snake around your waist. Michael placed his chin atop your shoulder and squeezed your waist gently, silently asking what was troubling you.

You sighed and turned to face him, your palms rested against his pecs, his hands still holding you.

"Loomis drove past again" you spat out.

Michael's gaze darkened briefly, a flash of anger struck across his expressive stormy blue eyes but it disappeared as quickly as it came.

"I won't let him take you back to Smith's Grove, Michael. I won't let him take you away from me. I'll kill him before I let that happen" you promise this to Michael, your voice steel with resolve. Michael holds you against him tighter, you look up into his eyes - his own darkening again as he drinks all of you in - your words increasing his love and obsession for/over you.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Later at work that day you were sat in your office staring out in to the shopping isles of the small hardware store that you were manager of - your mind thinking on nothing other than Michael's pursuers.

You didn't know what you would do if Loomis managed to catch Michael and send him back to Smith's Grove or if Laurie fucking Strode actually succeeded in killing Michael. Your blood boiled at the thought. That just couldn't happen. You intended to keep your promise to Michael. You would kill to keep him with you - because a life without Michael didn't seem to be much of a life at all - he had you by the heart, his grip unrelenting - he was it for you. There could never be anybody else.

Tearing your thoughts away from those to loons lest your blood pressure skyrocket you decided to go to the front desk and chat to Len, the cashier for a bit - he was always pleasant, light hearted conversation - just what you needed.

After chatting for a bit with Len, you felt a bit better, a little lighter. Grateful that he was a very easy conversationalist.

Just as you were about to turn back and head to your office the bell that alerted you to new customers jingled above the opening door. You turned with a smile ready to greet the customer when you felt your heart sink, your blood heat and your smile turn to a grimace.

In swept Laurie fucking Strode with that cool-girl casualness of hers and that barely there easy smile.

She didn't know that you were Michael's girlfriend - in fact you were pretty sure that she firmly believed Michael was incapable having a girlfriend or any feelings for another, whether familial or romantic to begin with.

She greeted you and Len after looking over her shoulder three times, nervous eyes scanning outside for any signs of Michael no doubt - God! You're doing this to yourself bitch - self fulfilling prophecy! You shouted internally.

Jim, the salesman who generally helped the potential customers was off sick for a day or two so you had to, unfortunately step in and assist.

"Can I help you, miss?" You ask with the friendliest tone you can muster and tight smile.

She looks over the aisles of stock typical to a hardware store and shook her head smiling back at you, oblivious to your strained demeanour.

"No, I'm good. I know what I'm after. Thanks though, I'll shout if I need help" and off she sauntered, disappearing behind the shelves.

You sniffed and leaned against the counter, hoping she'd hurry the fuck up so she could get the fuck out of your store.

Eventually after what felt like hours, Laurie returned to the front desk, a basket full of paraphernalia. Rope, pliers, a machete, bowie knife, gardening gloves, a mallet and other bits and bobs that could be used for nefarious purposes.

You thin your lips, eyes scanning the gear she places on the counter for Len to assist with.

"Quite an array of tools there... planning to kill someone?" You ask, voice steady and just teetering on the edge of knowing accusation and inquisitive humor.

Laurie looked up at you, mouth slightly agape. She swallowed hard before glancing out of the store's window once more and fumbling with her purse to retrieve her cash - dramatic.

"Uh, hehe, no... just some renovations needing to be done at home" she replies back in a somewhat shaky voice.

Renovations my ass.

"Hmm" is all you respond with. "Well, good luck and thanks for buying at Miller's Hardware" you pleasantly spout out as you turn on your heel and head back into your office.

Plopping down heavily onto your office chair you rub your temples as you feel a horrible headache blooming. You just knew fucking Laurie Croft was ready to take on Michael again this Halloween, which was unfortunately on 5 days away.

Sighing, you stop rubbing your temples as your cellphone buzzes on your desk. You lean over to see whose calling you.

It was your mom.

"Hey ma, how are you and dad doing?" you ask, smiling at the welcome distraction.

Your mom sniffled on the other end of the phone and you instantly sat up straight, worry furrowing your brows.

"Honey, you're gonna have to come home. Your dad... h-h he's had a stroke and I don't think I'll be able to handle him alone"

Your breath hitched and tears stung at the corners of your eyes. Your poor dad!

"Don't worry mom... I'll leave tonight - the drive will take about 4 hours" I say as I start cleaning up the office and pack everything away.

"No, I don't want you driving at night, baby. Your dad is stable and will only be out of hospital in a few days... take your time. Sort out what you have to over there, then come through. I- I'm so sorry for upending your life there in Haddonfield honey... but we need you home" Your mom choked out, her voice trembling on the other end.

"Don't feel bad mom. You're my parents, I'll do anything for you. I'll phone Larry tonight so that he can get a temporary manager in, then I'll sort everything else out and leave as soon as I can, ok?"

"Ok honey, see you soon. Drive safe"

After she hung up you let the tears fall down your face. Damn it. Just when you were settling nicely into Haddonfield - this being your third year here. But no matter... whether this move is temporary or more permanent you didn't care. Your parents needed you and you would be there for them no matter.

All of a sudden as though being hit in the face with a frying pan you thought of Michael.

"Michael! Shit!" You place your head in your hands and groan.

Well... let's hope he's ready for a trip as you will NOT leave him in Haddonfield with Loony Loomis and Laurie fucking Strode creeping about.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Chapter 4 coming soon

[beoneofus]

Chucky, Michael Myers, Ghostface, Freddy Krueger

- With Meeting Their Female Significant Other

𝘾𝙃𝙐𝘾𝙆𝙔

When you first meet, of course he's a dick.

Lots of swearing involved, along with inconsiderate, vulgar nicknames.

He tends to often threaten you the first two months.

After that, he simmers down with not only the threats, but slowly stops calling you a ‘ bitch ’ and addressing you improperly.

Chucky doesn't trust easily. You'd actually have to prove to him you wouldn't turn on him, or even pull something stupid at anytime.

Once you show that you're willing to cooperate with whatever plan he has, he decides to keep one eye on you instead of two. It's his own way of saying he's starting to relax more.

Don't be fooled, though. Although he's getting used to you, it'll take some time for him to actually start speaking in a more friendlier manner.

Plenty of crude comments, despite knowing you for five months in total. It's a pride thing.

When you actually attack someone in defense for him is when his respect is earned.

Oh, killing that person? He just realized he had feelings for you.

He won't admit that though.

Hey, you just earned yourself a slasher who now considers you a reasonable ally.

He won't tell you in actual lovey-dovey words that he's into you, but he'll sure as hell show it later on by pulling you into a blood-covered kiss.

𝙈𝙄𝘾𝙃𝘼𝙀𝙇 𝙈𝙔𝙀𝙍𝙎

Of course it starts off with him trying to kill you.

You actually fight back, though? That's a surprise.

Consider him shocked. He's had people fight back before, but he's never had someone actually pull a switch on him.

Cue the small head tilt and pause of slashing at you.

You're breathing heavily, ready to attack at any moment, and he's silently watching you.

He lowers his knife, but don't be fooled, he's still on high alert.

You, however, stay stiffened in a ready-to-stab-a-bitch position. Even if he lowered his weapon, you were not stupid. He was still a killer and could very much body you in seconds.

Oh? He's turning around and heading back down the steps of your, now dead, friends' house.

After that, you don't see him for a while.

Time skip to a month later. Michael is suddenly at your back porch, standing under the porch light with an eerie aura surrounding him.

You don't see him until you're on your way to do the dishes.

You're on high alert now.

Cue yourself reaching into your back pocket for the tazer you've been keeping on you.

Oh shit, he's opening up the door.

You pull out your weapon of defense and back up, only to switch it on.

Zap zap, motherfucker.

He isn't intimidated, though. Michael has been through worse, so little jolts of electricity don't scare him.

Nothing scares him.

He's stalking forward towards you in a slow, intimidating manner.

You're getting nervous. You really wished that the fucking tazer had a setting switch. Sadly, it didn't.

He stops walking. You stop walking.

He makes no movement to grab for his knife. You slowly lower your own weapon.

You're standing there staring at each other. You're uncomfortable, but he oddly feels fuzzy inside.

Fast forward to an hour later.

Michael is sat on your couch, blankly staring at the television, while you're on edge, making cookies in the kitchen.

You have a killer in your house and you're making cookies. Fucking insane, right?

Well, he wasn't harming you, so you figured why not welcome him into your humble home with a well made, sweet dish.

After that encounter, you two seem to run into each other more.

Or, more like he stalks you.

He likes to visit often.

Consider him obsessed after the first encounter, and now he can't seem to stay away.

You were creeped out at first, and honestly disturbed by his presence. But after three months pass, you find yourself relaxing around the killer.

He actually was good company, despite him not talking.

He listened when you needed to rant. He didn't mind when you had to have a quick cry. He actually helped you out when you needed to release your anger.

Having a murderer as a friend, actually wasn't so bad.

It wasn't bad, until you realized how you felt seven months into this supposed friendship.

It freaked you out that you could feel that way for someone like him.

Then again, were you even normal yourself? You befriended a slasher for fucks sake.

You decided a week later, to tell Michael how you felt, even if it meant getting rejected, or even killed in the end.

So you told him.

Silence.

No reply. No body movement. Just silence, like always.

You figured this was his way of rejection, so you swallowed and turned to leave.

He grabbed your hand though.

To say the least, you were shocked. You hadn't expected him to stop you from leaving.

Michael never touched you. Ever. He wouldn't even let YOU touch HIM. So this? It was big.

You turned around. He stared down at you, you stared up at him.

Slowly, he leaned down, pressing the lips of his mask to your forehead.

Your heart fluttered.

Was this real? Yes. You just needed a few seconds to comprehend it.

By time you did, you were already pressing your lips to the cheek of his latex mask.

𝙂𝙃𝙊𝙎𝙏𝙁𝘼𝘾𝙀 ( 𝘽𝙄𝙇𝙇𝙔 𝙇𝙊𝙊𝙈𝙄𝙎 )

Girl, did you really decide to toy with a serial killer?

I mean, come on, he isn't the brightest, but he's not a dumbass either.

When you decided to actually shoot his own question back at him, it caught him off guard.

“ 𝙄'𝙢 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦, 𝘥𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦. ”

You wouldn't back down, though. You were a confident gal. A horror documentary obsessed one, at that.

He couldn't fool you. He wouldn't fool you.

You knew just what was going on. Seeing as you over thought a lot into things, too, made the situation even better.

“ Awe.. Is mister serial killer shocked that his victim isn't actually scared this time? ”

Silence.

Billy is ticked on the other side of the phone. Who knew someone as innocent looking as you could be such a mocking little bitch?

“ As fun as this is, I actually have ta' get ta' bed. Catch ya' later, Mr. Killer. ~ ”

Click goes the phone.

Did you just hang up on him?

He's peaking through your front window, watching as you place the phone back on the hook, before getting up from your sitting position.

Fuck! You 𝘿𝙄𝘿 hang up on him!

Big mistake. BIG mistake.

The next day, you receive a mysterious note in your gym locker.

‘ 𝘽𝘪🅖︎ 𝘮𝙄𝘴𝘵🅐︎𝘬𝙀 🅑︎𝙄𝘵🅒︎𝙃 ! ’

But you weren't scared.

Odd, huh?

It's almost as if you weren't sane.

You crumbled the the note up and harshly slammed the locker shut.

When you turned and walked around the corner, a figure in a dark cloak and father death mask was standing several feet away ; in the doorway of the gym's locker room.

Cue the creepy head tilt, and wave of a classic hunting knife.

“ 𝘛𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘺𝘢' 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝙗𝙞𝙜 𝙢𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨 𝘶𝘱, 𝘠/𝘕. ”

You were supposed to be afraid.

Yet, instead, you widely grinned.

“ Is this the part where I scream for my life and flee like a scared little girl? ”

Now, this reaction alone made Billy's blood boil.

Why weren't you afraid? Why weren't you running for your life, as soon as you saw the knife?

Any other slasher would've taken interest in this change of events.

But Billy wasn't any other slasher.

He fed off of negative reactions. He enjoyed seeing his victims scared shit less and running for their lives, only to make an idiotic mistake and fall right into his fucking hands.

Why were you different?

You ended up out smarting him that day.

Again, you over thought everything.

You knew a serial killer, that randomly called you up in the middle of the night, wouldn't easily let you get off scott-free.

He had to have another plan, right?

So, you set up a trip wire near the other exit of the locker room.

You didn't know when, or even if he'd show up the next day.

But he did. Thank god you were prepared.

He ended up tripping over the wire that was thinner than paper, only for skin-stinging bleach to fall over from the top of the door and cover him head to toe.

He had a mask on, so his face was protected.

But that liquid soaked through the fabric of his cloak. Yikes, he was swearing a lot.

Could you blame him, though? That shit hurt.

You ended up escaping in the end.

Weeks pass. No sign of the ghostfaced killer anywhere.

It's like he disappeared.

He wanted you to think that, though.

Exactly, on Halloween night, he made a presence at the party you attended.

Everything was dandy. You were having fun.

But then, someone screamed, which led to others screaming.

Before you knew it, you were running out of the kitchen to see what the hell was going on.

Blood. That's all you saw.

Were you shocked? Yes.

Were you scared? No. Weird.

Were you slightly turned on? Just a little.

As soon as the oh-so-famous stalker that has been watching you for nearly two months now, emerged from the shadows, that feeling of being hot between your legs immediately went away.

You were now annoyed.

Red, plastic cup in hand, you swirled the alcohol around inside, before taking a small sip.

“ Is this like your only hobby? ”

He didn't answer.

Billy was too busy gawking at you, wondering why the fuck you weren't scared, even after seeing a body covered floor.

He deemed, finally, that you were a crazy bitch.

Took him long enough.

“ 𝘕𝘰... ”

Pause. Eyeing the cup in hand.

He may be a killer, but he was still an eighteen-year-old who loved to get shit faced.

“ 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘶𝘱, 𝙙𝙤𝙡𝙡𝙛𝙖𝙘𝙚? ”

Gesturing forward with a gloved hand.

Your face scrunches up in confusion.

Wasn't he supposed to be trying to kill you? Wasn't that what this whole thing was about?

Instead, he wants to know what kind of alcohol you're finishing up.

“ Whiskey mixed with Tequila. ”

Deadly combo.

The fact that you drunk heavy like that, kind of gave him a stiffy.

It's funny how men worked.

“ 𝘎𝘰𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘵? ”

And so, that's how your friendship started.

You two conversed about horror movies, documentaries, horror related themes, and gore that night.

Hell, you even drew dicks on Franky Harris' face just for the hell of it.

Laughs were shared.

Months passed in a breeze.

Before you knew it, you grew an attraction to Billy.

You never saw his face, nor his body. You just vibed with him.

You two got along quite well. That was enough for you to develop feelings.

Billy felt the same.

He never had actual feelings before. Not even for Sydney.

But over the past eight months that you two hung out together, sometimes including Stu, he could actually feel butterflies in his stomach and a heavy flutter in his chest each time you laughed, or even just looked at him.

Neither of you were the type to actually confess feelings out loud.

Instead, Billy asked you out on a date the day of graduation.

You didn't need an explanation. You didn't need to question him. You knew it was genuine and not some plot to get into your pants.

You could feel it.

So you accepted, by shooting him one of your famous smirks, and kissing the cheek of his mask.

𝙁𝙍𝙀𝘿𝘿𝙔 𝙆𝙍𝙐𝙀𝙂𝙀𝙍

Do I even need to say how you two met?

Obviously, he entered into your dreams.

It startled the fuck out of you when you poofed into a boiler room surrounded by the color red, hot pipes, steam, and maniac laughter that sent a chill down your spine.

You weren't one to get scared easily. But this just felt so feel to you.

It was real, of course.

As soon as the scraping of claws hit metal and dragged along the steaming pipes, creating a screeching sound, you were dashing down the metal rails in nothing but your bare feet, sweatpants and a tank top.

Your goal wasn't to run and hide. Your goal was to find something, anything, to fight off whatever the fuck was coming for you.

You were a smart teenager, considering you were bumped up a grade than where you were normally supposed to be. So it didn't take you long to figure out that it was your own dream, so you could control it.

Soon enough, you found a metal baseball bat just around the corner.

Looks like your quick thinking worked.

“ 𝘾𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙛𝙖𝙘𝙚 𝙁𝙧𝙚𝙙𝙙𝙮, 𝘽𝙄𝙏𝘾𝙃! ”

You didn't know who the hell that was, and you didn't care.

You just knew you'd wack-a-mole this motherfucker.

Hiding behind the dusty wall that you earlier rounded, you sucked in a breath.

Freddy could hear your beating heart.

He could smell your tasty fear.

He practically relished in the fact that your heart was thumping so hard against your chest that it reached your eardrums.

What he really liked, was the fact that you welded a bat, thinking it could hurt him.

You were wrong, dead wrong.

But you had guts.

This game would be exciting. He could sense it. He could sense that YOU were exciting.

As soon as the clinking of knives reached your ears, you pushed off of the wall and revealed yourself.

Arms raised. Bat swung.

You hit Freddy right in the face!

Your eyes were closed though, so you didn't know. You just wanted to aim the bat at any angle of him.

You heard a grunt, and then a thump.

When you opened your eyes though, the dream demon was no where to be seen.

“ 𝙏𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙠 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙝𝙪𝙧𝙩 𝙢𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙞𝙡𝙮, 𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙡𝙚 𝙢𝙤𝙪𝙨𝙚? ~ ”

Silent, dark, sinister chuckling entered your ears as hot breath hit the back of your neck.

This made the hair on your arms stand up.

You were on edge.

For once, you were actually fucking terrified.

But then, a miracle happened.

You woke up.

Weeks passed before you had another encounter with this mysterious, supposed ‘ demon ’. Again, it was just like the previous one.

Only this time, he actually managed to get his claws into your arm.

Your mother questioned you that morning on what happened to your arm, and why it was bandaged.

“ I played too rough with ( dogs name ). ”

Excuses, excuses.

Three more weeks passed, before he showed up in your dreams again.

This time, you were less scared.

You gained confidence with each encounter the two of you had.

Thinking back to the first time he appeared, you pieced together that you actually could control the dream.

You were just too scared before. Your fear is what overpowered him.

On the third encounter, you managed to trip up Freddy and make him tumble down the stairs of the factory.

Bye Bye, motherfucker!

But really, it wasn't bye bye. It was just a see you later.

With each visit that happened afterwards, the meetings just became of cat and mouse for you two.

Of course, you weren't always the mouse.

Or, in this case, you were Jerry and he was Tom.

You seemed to outsmart him many, many times and that ticked him off.

But it also intrigued him.

By time the sixth month rolled around, Freddy realized he grew a liking to you.

Whether it was possessive, romantic, or even both, he didn't know.

But he knew he'd keep you to himself.

Which is why, he often visited your dreams now.

“ Again? ”

This was the forth night in a row he managed to sneak you into the dream realm. Really, it was a surprise.

Visits never happened this often. Why now?

“ 𝙇𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙡𝙚 𝙗𝙞𝙩𝙘𝙝, 𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙡𝙚 𝙗𝙞𝙩𝙘𝙝. ~ 𝙒𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙤𝙣 𝙛𝙪𝙘𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙝 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙗𝙚𝙚𝙣? ”

You jumped from the sudden whispering in your ear.

Whirling around, only to come face to face with the smirking demon himself.

A squeak escaped you, but you quickly covered it up by backing away, and faking a cough.

He caught that squeak, though.

Cute.

“ Awake, obviously. ”

A pause.

“ I was just here yesterday. And the day before. AND the day before. ”

Suspicious eye squint.

“ What's with the frequent visiting? ”

Freddy was very much humored by your questioning. But he wouldn't answer. Instead, he quickly kissed your lips, leaving you to gawk out like a fish out of water. Then, with a snap of his fingers... You awake.

[calumxkisses]

Us | c.h.

pairing: calum hood x f!reader

genre: fluff

warnings: none

summary: Michael and Crystal take you and Calum along to visit their wedding hall and it's the perfect location for a dance full of love.

a/n: am i obsessed with the idea of dancing with Calum? yes. let me know if you liked it. i'm still not really good at writing fluff imagines but i'm learning and i'll hopefully do better in the future.

you should read this imagine while listening to: us

➳

“So, this is the wedding hall?” Calum asks as he enters looking around the room. The structure is huge, there is still a lot to do but some decorations have already been fixed.

“Yeah, there are a few things we would like to change but it’s pretty much gonna be like this.” Michael responds, walking inside the room and looking around.

“It's lovely, guys. It's like being in a fairy tale.” You whisper while looking around the room. Your fingers are barely intertwined with Calum's as you look at the room, admiring the ceiling and the windows overlooking the sea.

You turn to Crystal and notice a tear running down her face as she admires the room. A smile forms on your face as you see your best friend so happy, her dream is coming true and you couldn't feel more proud of her.

This marriage has overcome the strangest obstacles, the biggest certainly was having to be postponed due to a pandemic, but their love has never stopped in front of these, it has grown more and more and to be able to be among the witnesses of their love is among the things you are most grateful for.

The room is very large, has an oval shape and is surrounded by windows overlooking the sea. Some tables have already been set up and embellished, they are also circular in shape and have floral decorations in the center. The tablecloth is embroidered in lace, it is pearl white but the different colored decorations, which accompany the flowers in the center, make the table look wonderful and original, recalling Crystal's passion for plants.

The chairs that surround them, simple but still elegant, have ribbons that decorate them. They’re gold and white, yet their simple design makes them look gorgeous.

“We are going to talk to the wedding planner to fix some things, in the meantime you can stay here and see if there is something else that we should change.” Crystal's voice grabs your attention, as she approaches Michael and takes his hand in hers. The wedding planner is at the entrance, smilingly waits for the couple and, for a moment, you think that there can’t be a more beautiful job than being able to make the dreams of couples come true.

“Calum, can you check that the stereo is working? They told me they fixed it but I haven't been able to check it yet, you'd be doing me a big favor.” Michael asks as he leaves the room grinning and not leaving time to Calum to reply.

“Gotcha.” Your boyfriend replies, shaking his head in amusement and smiling.

As Calum approaches the speakers, you take another moment to admire the room.

Looking up, your breath locks in your chest as Crystal's gorgeous decorations leave you in awe. The ceiling, which was previously simply white and wooden, is decorated with strips of tulle hanging like waves, giving life to a sense of peace and softness. The stripes extend all over the ceiling, giving the impression of being in the middle of the clouds.

In addition to the tulle, in a delicate way, some threads of small lights descend from the ceiling, romantically illuminating the room and creating an intimate and unobtrusive atmosphere.

A small elegant chandelier hangs in the center of the room, it is gold and its light is not as strong as someone might think, it is ideal to keep the room more illuminated in the most important moments, but its presence is more scenic than functional.

Some leaves and some flowers come down intertwined along the edges of the windows, hiding the window frame and making the atmosphere of the room even more simple and elegant.

The main theme is certainly white and gold, but Crystal and Michael made sure to add a few more hints of color as well, in order to make the room less monotonous and more fairytale.

The light inside the room disappears, leaving only the small lights that descend from the ceiling on. You open your mouth to ask what happened, but the words do not come out as your gaze rests on the sea outside the room, calm as in the best days, while a wonderful sunset is reflecting on the clear water. The sky is painted orange and pink, some clouds are scattered in the sky and you no longer have any doubts on why your friends have chosen this location.

There is a sense of peace in the air and you feel like you are in a different world, in a world of calm and joy, while the land where you have lived in these difficult months seems a distant memory.

“It's beautiful, isn't it?” Calum whispers in your ear as his hands rest on your hips from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder and looking outside.

“If it's a dream, please don't wake me up.” You whisper, closing your eyes and letting the sea air coming in through the window on your left, caress your face.

“I could never do that, you are too beautiful when you sleep.” You can see him smile as he whispers those words and, as every time he smiles, you smile too. There is something contagious about his joyful expressions, they warm your heart and you can't help but share them with him.

“Does the stereo system work?” You ask after a few minutes of silence, turning around to face him and leaving a quick kiss on his lips.

“Do you want to try it with me?” he asks with a smile, pulling his cell phone out of his pocket and pressing a couple of buttons on the screen.

“What do you mean?” A confused expression forms on your face. The long lilac summer dress moves with every blow of the wind but the summer temperature makes sure that you don't feel cold.

Calum puts the phone back in his pocket and, after a few seconds, the first notes of your favorite love song can be heard throughout the room.

While you smile, your boyfriend clears his throat and, reaching out his hand, asks you: “May I have this dance?”

Your cheeks turn red and the muscles of your face stretch into an even bigger smile as you nod and grab his hand. Calum walks you to the center of the room and holds your hips, bringing you closer to him.

And, as the first words of one of the most beautiful love songs echo in the room, you rest your head on his chest and close your eyes as your feet move to the sweet rhythm of the music.

Sometimes I'm beaten

Sometimes I'm broken

'Cause sometimes this is nothing but smoke

Is there a secret?

Is there a code?

Can we make it better?

'Cause I'm losing hope

Calum had never loved dancing, at least not this much. His footsteps were limited to a few twirls and jumps on stage or some weird movement on the dance floor, when the alcohol level in his body was way too high to be ashamed of anything he was doing. He had always seen dancing as something that did not belong to him, an activity that stressed him more than it should, and he had never imagined that he could love it so much.

But after you arrived in his life, one of the moments he loves the most is to dance with you, at two in the morning, in the kitchen, to the notes of any love song you are obsessed with in that moment, in the peace of the silence and of the sleepless night, while Duke looks at you confused and waits for the right moment to come ask for cuddles.

The way you let him hold you, the way you let yourself be vulnerable in front of him, away from judging eyes, and the way he feels like protecting you, in the darkness of the room, makes him feel a sense of calm that he hasn' t felt for a long time before your presence in his life.

And even if he was the universe's worst dancer and the whole world was watching him, he’d still dance with you.

Tell me how to be in this world

Tell me how to breathe in and feel no hurt

Tell me how could I believe in something

I believe in us

Calum squeezes your hand tightly as, observing you with eyes full of love, he spins you in front of him. The sunlight lights up your face and the man in front of you is sure he has never seen anything more beautiful. You look like a Greek goddess, the kind you hear in stories and in history books, the goddesses who saved the bravest soldiers and helped them in the toughest feats.

This is how he feels, ever since he saw in you a friend - and then a girlfriend - more than an enemy, he saw his little world in fractions being put back into place, with delicacy and love, and he is ready to sacrifice his most important assets to always have you on his side.

The sun is slowly setting, making room for the moon and all its stars. Yet, with him holding you tight, it seems to you that the world has stopped.

After the wreckage

After the dust

I still hear the howling, I still feel the rush

Over the riots, above all the noise

Through all the worry, I still hear your voice

Calum would be able to describe every single moment he walked into the dark and you led his way out with your light. Whenever he had writer's block, whenever anxiety kept him from getting through his day, whenever his thoughts got too dark and the demons took over, you were there.

Your delicate hands caressing his face or the sweet melody of your voice whispering comforting words, Calum remembers every one of these moments, every single one.

When the world becomes too heavy and distressing, he knows that you will be by his side and that you will help him carry the heavy weight.

And when the insecurities make their way into him, you will always be ready to remind him that he deserves to be loved.

So, tell me how to be in this world

Tell me how to breathe in and feel no hurt

Tell me how 'cause I believe in something

I believe in us

Tell me when the light goes out

That even in the dark we will find a way out

Tell me now 'cause I believe in something

I believe in us

Between dance steps, Calum lulls you slowly, the song continues to echo in your ears, and even your jaw relaxes. It’s so calming to not feel the weight of the world and the speed of time but to be able to enjoy this moment with a light heart and a head empty of all worries. In a society that runs fast and demands perfection from everything, having the opportunity to be able to stop and be left alone in love and peace is a luxury that cannot always be granted. Especially when your boyfriend is in an internationally famous band and you are trying to make your smaller, yet still of great value, dreams come true.

There is no worry about having to say the right words, having to wear the best clothes or just being yourself and praying to be accepted by millions of people who don't know you but who judge you as being part of your life.

‘She's not good enough for him’ or ‘He deserves someone more beautiful, with a perfect body, with a good mental health’ or even ‘She doesn't really love him, she does it for the money’ And there are also those gorgeous people he meets often, who work in some radio or who know mutual friends, and immediately those words written under your photos get inside you and make every certainty collapse.

You look at yourself into the mirror and you think they're right, that you're not perfect and that he really deserves one of those cover girls or someone who won't make him worry if you don't answer the phone. Insecurities that, however, under the sheets of a now familiar home, Calum makes you forget about.

And the words he whispers to you every day, the way he looks at you as if you were the most beautiful person in the world, the consideration he has of you, the notes he leaves on the table when he goes out or all those details that he pays attention to, they convince you that he doesn't care what size you are, the color of your skin or the negative thoughts that cross your mind, he loves you for your intelligence, for the kindness you carry in your heart and the delicacy with which you treat him, for the funny sound of your laugh and the way you make him feel in heaven, while reminding him to always keep his feet on the ground. And those comments, those ideas, disappear in the blink of an eye.

And now, like every time you’re with him, with your head on his chest and with his arms holding you, with the sea in the background and the lights that illuminate that corner of paradise that Crystal created, everything seems to be in the right place.

Used to be kids living just for kicks

In cinema seats, learning how to kiss

Running through streets that were painted gold

We never believed we'd grow up like this

Calum had never had good words to describe his love life. He had had love stories he was not proud of, toxic or in which he hadn't really felt strong feelings, and of the only good stories he had had, he didn’t like to tell about them because he was ashamed of how he had lived them. He believed that he hadn’t committed enough or that he hadn’t loved in the right ways.

So, he had decided not to try anymore, to put aside that desire to want to create something with someone and the more the people around him fell in love with and the more he thought about the effort he should have made, and all that stress made him forget the meaning to love. He didn’t want to meet anyone anymore, his life was good as it was.

And when you showed up awkwardly, in ruined makeup and wet clothes, Calum had thought of a thousand reasons why he didn't want to deal with you. Who shows up at an event dressed like this? What kind of girls does Crystal meet? And the way you talked about how your umbrella broke halfway and how you were about to be hit by a car didn't interest him. Calum just wanted to eat at that restaurant, pulled there by his best friends after a day spent in the studio.

And when the party moved to a friend’s house, it only bothered him how carefully you made sure you didn't spill your drink as you moved between dancing bodies and wagging dogs. He couldn't stand how you talked about life to Ashton, the love you put into describing the people who were part of it.

And when he saw you a few weeks later, he hated the way you greeted him and the way you worried about how he was doing. All too cheesy, too filmy and unrealistic.

But then, without realizing it, between one hateful look and another, Calum listened with interest to the way you talked about your passions and hobbies, how you described the places you had visited and the cities you dreamed of seeing. He laughed at you dancing and smiled when you paid attention to what people were saying around you, mentally marking down all the information to make sure to always ask the right questions.

And he found himself wanting the same attention from you, to see the smile you gave to others, dedicated to him. And so his answers to you became less and less cold and he had become less good at hiding his sweet eyes from you.

And even though every cell of his body was asking otherwise, to not feel another broken heart, Calum had decided to kiss you in the backstage of the iHeartRadio 2018, while you were wearing his leather jacket and moving his hair from the front of his eyes.

And the rest is history.

So, tell me how to be in this world

Tell me how to breathe in and feel no hurt

Tell me how 'cause I believe in something

I believe in us

Tell me when the light goes out

That even in the dark we will find a way out

Tell me now 'cause I believe in something

I believe in us

And like when Emily Bronte said ‘Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same’, as in the case of your love, there isn't much to do. You cannot go against fate if two hearts are meant to spend the rest of eternity together.

There are no arguments, reasons or strong enough excuses to separate those who are connected by much more than just love. And that’s what makes you this close, that in the darkness of the world, in the hell of fear and anger, that strong feeling resists, and fighting together is always better than doing it alone.

It’s a strong love, ready to defeat everything that tries to divide it, ready to sacrifice the absolute good of one, in order to spend the rest of life in misery together.

Like the rebellious angels, who preferred an earthly love to the eternal glory of God, so you are bound to laugh and cry together, and there is nothing that can make you happier than that.

Calum turns you around one last time, whispering a compliment in your ear and making your laughter echo across the room. The sun has now set and the stars are taking its place, the lights that descend from the ceiling look like little fairies that got lost admiring your love and the room has taken the shape of a magical forest.

Your friends are at the door of the entrance, with eyes full of love they look at the two of you laughing together and their hearts melt to see you so in love and they can’t help but imagine themselves in your place, in a few weeks, ready to dance and share the same love that you and Calum are sharing.

Breaking the peace of that dream, with pride and a grin on his face, is Michael, clapping and laughing at the way your boyfriend is completely in love with you but also feeling happy to see him so positively changed. He takes a few steps toward you and you don't need to hear him speak to imagine the comments he's thinking, making you and Calum shake your heads smiling.

“Just so you know, I expect to see you dance like that at our wedding too.” Your best friend's sweet voice says as she points at you by moving her finger between you and your boyfriend.

You run toward Crystal, her pink hair is tied up in a low ponytail, with a few tufts running down her face. Her smile is big on her face, lighting up her joyful expression. You have a billion questions to ask her, most of them are about the choices they made for the final decorations and your heart is so full at thinking about your best friends getting married.

You’re too caught up in your happiness to notice Calum, just a dozen steps behind you, smiling to his bandmate while whispering: “I want to spend the rest of my life with her.”

“Well, you know what to do.” Michael responds by nodding with his head and looking proudly at his best friend.

“Will you help me organize the proposal?”

--

[baecvlt]

Stalker Nagito Komaeda x Milf!Reader

this was requested via my twitter:

“Hey! i’ve seen your works and I’m in love. Can I request smut where a stalker Nagito Komaeda becomes obsessed with a milf reader who moves into the neighborhood who’s like a dom in bed and ya know just large bust and taller than him. Thank youuu🤍”

a/n: ofc. but I have my own idea of a dom which i’ll use involving certain things (heed warnings)

warnings: he is so obviously a virgin in this, degradation, slight masochism, asphyxiation, spit, also Nagito calls the reader mommy (side note: nagito is in his early 20s in this, he lives alone. age of reader isn’t specified BUT I say she’s in her late 20s/early 30s)

• • •

It was a bright day...which Nagito despised. It was summer. He hated the sun, hated the mosquitoes, and the unnecessary humidity. It was days like these he wishes he was back at his university dorm. The A/C, the tall tree covering his window and blocking the sun...it was perfect. Hell, he didn’t even hate classes. Yet, he couldn’t live in the dorms forever. When it came time to buy a home, he stupidly did so in fall, moved in during the winter.

Well, no shit the home seemed perfect then. It wasn’t fucking summer. His A/C decided to break, his windows has a great view of the sun, and most of his friends were out of town (all except Hajime, but Hajime is fucking boring and a bummer). Nagito sat on his couch, watching reruns of old tv shows. He took a sip from his nearby glass (cold water), suddenly hearing sounds of what appeared to be a loading van. He looked outside his window.

A moving van?

Right, that one old man who lived there passed away. Freak accident, by the way. Oh well, may he rest in peace. Meanwhile, Nagito was being himself and trying to see who it was. Pretty much, the dude was being nosy. He saw another car pull up. That must’ve been the family’s car. Out jumped 3 kids, what appeared to be 2 girls and 1 boy. An adult stepped out. Nagito decided he’d get a better look at the situation. He put on his shirt, black jeans, and his green hood.

He was “going for a walk”.

Without being noticed, he made his way to the other side of the street. It was a woman, she was taking boxes out of the truck. The minute Nagito saw her it was if he was stricken by Cupid’s arrow. She was tall and beautiful. Her skin complimented her hair and her legs, he couldn’t take his eyes off them. Her breasts...he needed to stop—

“Hi!”

She was in front of him, a warm and inviting smile on her face. “H-Hi,” he muttered. She didn’t hear him well, so it helped that he waved. “I’m new in the neighborhood. We just moved in,” she added, putting the box down. She stuck her hand out, going for a handshake. He shook her hand, her warm hand against his cold ones. Why are his hands always cold? “I see,” he responded, getting his shit together,“I’m Nagito Komaeda. I live across the street”. She introduced herself and complimented his house.

“What a lovely home. I hope the neighborhood is just as lovely”

“It should be. It’s pretty quiet. There’s not many families here. Say, can I help you pack?”

“You’re too sweet! I’d really appreciate it”

He helped take all the boxes in her home, helping load a couch too, and help with other large objects. They finished in 9 hours, taking a majority of the day. “Thanks for helping out, Nagito”. She made a lemonade, handing him a glass.

“Don’t mention it! Also, thank you”

One of the kids ran in the living room where they sat on the couch. He gasped when he saw Nagito. “Mommy! That man looks dead!!!”. Nagito smiled, but his mom was not amused. “Michael! Apologize..”. The kid kept smiling and said,“Sorry!”. He ran to another room. “I’m so sorry,” she muttered. Nagito shook his head.

“Hey, I’m rather malnourished”

“Ha. On an unrelated topic, are you hungry? I could make us something”

“Oh, I shouldn’t linger any longer. I wouldn’t want to disturb your husband”

She laughed. “I know you mean no harm, but I’m not married,” she added. “Oh,” Nagito muttered,“I’m sorry, I really didn’t mean it in any way”. She shook her head and reassured him it was fine. “Sit, Nagito,” she pulled out a chair,“I’m not letting you refuse having dinner with us. Especially since you were such help”. She rubbed his back before heading back into the kitchen to begin cooking.

She made him a bowl of pasta, adding chicken on the side. Nagito was quite happy. He hadn’t eaten a good meal in so long. Her kids didn’t eat at the table, but on the counter. Meanwhile, she ate with Nagito. Just as Nagito thought he couldn’t grow fonder of her, he did just that. All she did was let him talk about himself.

“Jesus, I’m sorry about your parents? How are you keeping yourself afloat with university and expenses?”

“Academic scholarships”

“Wow, you’re such a smart boy”

The way she phrased it made him flustered. “Thank you for the meal, ma’am,” he muttered,“I haven’t eaten like this in who knows how long”. She smiled tenderly, picking up his empty plate. “Seconds?”. He shook his head.

“No, thank you. I’m already so full”

“I’m glad. You know, there’s always a meal for you in store if you can do me a favor”

“What’s that?”

“My oldest daughter has her final test this week. You think you can help her study? I’ll make you a nice, warm meal every time you come over”

Nagito thought about it. He would also have time around her. Plus, she wasn’t a bad cook. “Of course, I look forward to it,” he told her. “Lovely”. He got up and excused himself to go home. “It was nice having you over, Nagito,” she said softly. He could tell she was getting sleepy. When people are tired, Nagito has noticed that their tone is rather sheepish. She walked him to the door, ruffling his hair playfully and he blushed. “Goodnight, neighbor”.

“Goodnight, you”

Before he left, she stopped him and handed him a paper: (xxx) xxx-xxxx ♡

“Call me when you get home so I have your number saved. Then, I can call you when my daughter, Vanessa, needs help. Take care, okay?”

He nodded.

She closed the door, his thoughts racing on his way home. He picked up some things about her, things she didn’t even tell him. He went home and opened a notebook, writing all of it down. He called her and she answered, her voice as sweet as when he left (only sleepier). “Hello?”. His breath was heavy without realizing it as he spoke. “H-Hey, you told me to call you,” he breathed,“It’s Nagito...Komaeda”

“Oh, hey, angel! I’m not interrupting anything am I?”

“What? No, it’s all good— why’d you think so?”

“You sound like you need to catch your breath, but anyway, thanks for calling me. I’ve saved your number now”

“Oh, great! Well, if that’s all, I’ll let you go to bed now”

“It was. Goodnight, Nagito”

“G-Goodnight”

He hung up, flustered more than ever as he continued to jot down his thoughts on paper. The next day, he woke up at 6am to wait in his car. He knew what he was doing was wrong, but he couldn’t help it. At around 7:41am, his front neighbor and kids headed for their car. Nagito, who had taken a light nap in the driver’s seat, was awoken by the car starting. He waited for the car to drive away just slightly past his house to start his own car, slowly tailing behind her.

He dropped her kids off at the nearby elementary. She got off, kissed them on their forehead (all minus the eldest, who walked swiftly through the gates). Seeing how she cared for them made Nagito feel bad, but all he did was brush that feeling off. Next, he followed her through her daily. As he did, his notes from last night echoed through his mind, adding new detail.

“She works at an office not everyday She doesn’t have allergies but is sensitive to dust Red seems to be her favorite color but always in a darker shade Her daughter is around 10 years old She isn’t vegan but enjoys almond milk Maybe has an issues with abandonment but I can’t assume that either She buys many apples but not the same amount of bananas at the store so maybe she only eats the bananas—”

Just more to add to his notebook.

He got home before she did, writing down what he had learned. His phone rang about an hour later of him getting home. He picked it up,“Hello?”. “Nagito, hi!”. It was her. He started having a mini-panic attack, because why would she be calling him? “H-Hey, how are you?”

“I’m doing alright. I was wondering if you could come over and tutor Vanessa”

Oh, thank god.

“Yes, of course. I’ll be down there right now”

“Great. See you then!”

He was relieved, heading to her home happily. He knocked on the door. When she opened it, she did so with the same warm smile as yesterday. “Thank you for coming over,” she said,“She’s in her room”. Nagito nodded, freezing when she grabbed his hand and took him to the room. Her touch was so soft, noted. They got to the room, where a girl was reading a book on a desk. “Nessa?”. The girl turned around.

“Nagito is going to be here for a few hours to help you out with homework and studying. He’s really smart, so pay attention and be respectful”

“Okay, mom”

She nodded, squeezing Nagito’s shoulder before leaving. Nagito approached the girl, she took her things out. Before he could speak, she stopped him. “Please don’t call me ‘Nessa’,” she whispered,“It’s bad enough my mom does, but not you, Please”.

“Don’t worry. I wasn’t planning on referring to you at all”

“Bastard”

“Nessa”

“I guess I walked right into that one”

Nagito laughed, grabbing a chair and sitting next to her. Her work wasn’t what he expected. Is this what they’re teaching kids now? He could’ve sworn he hadn’t seen this type of stuff until he hit middle school. It wasn’t anything he couldn’t do, but damn. All in all, tutoring went well. Vanessa actually learned something today. “Good job!,” he said. “Thank you,” she smiled and hugged him,“I felt so stupid”.

“Hey, its okay not to understand things”

Her mom walked in. “Dinner’s ready”. Vanessa got up and went to the kitchen. “How’d it go?,” she asked Nagito. “Went well, she gets the math now,” he answered. She smiled, thanking him for his help and asking him to join them for dinner. He’d be foolish not to, so he accepted the invite.

Fish tacos were served tonight with rice and beans, another lemonade made. It was different than anything Nagito had ever had, but that doesn’t equate to bad. He actually enjoyed the meal. The kids sat at the main table today, much more respectful than yesterday. “Michael how was school?”. He put a thumbs up, getting back to eating. “And Adrianna?”. She looked up from her meal and shrugged. “What’s wrong?”.

“I’m tired, but class was okay”

“Oh, okay. When you’re done, just take a quick shower and get to bed”

“Thanks”

Nagito thought it was endearing. Seeing how understanding and loving she was, it was refreshing. The kids all eventually left, Nagito finishing his meal. “Did you like it?”. He looked at her, nodding. “Great! Seconds?”.

“Full again. I don’t usually eat, but your food is always so good”

“Oh, you’re just saying things...”

“No, really! Thank you”

He said his goodbyes to the family, walking back home. It was as if he was falling for this woman more and more everyday. He went to sleep, this time dreaming of her. He never dreams, but this time he dreamt she was on her knees for him. Then, nothing else. It was as if his dream teased him.

The next morning, he woke up to some knocking on the door. He looked at the time. 8:23am. He put on a pair of jeans and his shirt, walking to his door. He opened it and there she stood, wearing a black dress and red heels. He assumed she had work and needed a favor before going. “Good morning,” he said.

“Were you following me yesterday?”

Shit.

“I, uh...,” he didn’t know what to answer. He was indeed following her yesterday. He also liked her, so if he straight up said that he was to following her, it’d ruin things. His face was glowing a shade of pink to a slight red as he thought of the right answer. He was still stumbling over his words. “I think it’s kinda cute,” she added. The fuck? “Huh?”. She pushed him inside the house, closing and locking the door behind him. “When a boy follows someone around, it’s because he wants something,” she added, but her tone was so sultry,“Well, Nagito—”. She pushed him onto the couch, leaning in front of him with her hands on his chest.

“—What do you want?”

None of what was happening felt real. Nagito couldn’t find the words to express what exactly he wanted. This was the first time he’d ever been in a situation like this, it wasn’t a bad one either. He began to panic when she straddled him. “Could it be that you wanted me?,” she asked. He frantically nodded and she laughed as she locked her lips with his. He gasped against her lips, kissing back. She slowly trailed her kisses down to his neck, cupping his jaw while grinding on his lap. Nagito moaned, his shaky hands grabbing her ass. She grabbed his hands and put them away from her. “It’s cute that you’re getting this carried away”.

“I’m sorry”

“No time to apologize. Get on your knees for mommy”

Nagito was about to lose his mind when she said that, but he obeyed. Her presence was domineering as he stood on his knees against his carpeted floor. She spread her legs, noticing Nagito desperately trying to get a look. Her red heel stopped him, stepping on his head lightly. “Am I teasing you?,” she asked,“It’s okay to be honest”.

“Y-You are, but its okay. I want to be teased by you”

“You’re adorable,” she took her heel off his head,“Let’s go to your room”.

He practically ran to his bed. He sat and waited patiently. She entered the room, heading to his bed. She began to take off his shirt, admiring his frame. She then unbuckled his belt and unzipped his jeans. He kicked them off and sat down. She sat next to him. “Give me your hands”. She held them, frowning slightly. “Boo, they’re so cold,” she teased,“I’ll warm them up for you”. Carefully, she grabbed his left hand, putting his middle and ring finger in her mouth. She licked to his fingertips, leaving him tense and speechless. She stopped and smiled at him.

“This is your first time, isn’t it?”

He nodded shyly. “Don’t be shy,” she said,“I’m going to guide you, but I’m also going to have my fun”. He gulped, nodded. She stood up and removed her dress. She wore a lacy black bra and panties. She brought his hands to her breasts, allowing him to fondle them. They were huge in his hands. “You like them, baby?”. “Y-Yes,” he muttered,“Can you, uh, take....the bra off?”. He was ashamed when asking, he felt desperate. She smiled and nodded, unhooking it and allowing the bra to fall to the ground. He gasped at the sight of her tits, grabbing them. She straddled him.

“Do you know what to do with them?”

He nodded, rubbing one and sucking the other. She moaned sweetly, grinding on his lap. He popped his mouth off them. That was when she took the opportunity to knock him onto the bed. She began to make out with him, shoving his tongue down her throat. They lay sideways. Her hand was on his neck, slightly choking him. He couldn’t resist but try to grind on her lap. She laughed. “Look at you,” she mocked,“Humping my leg like a desperate little puppy”. She didn’t let him speak, sitting up and pushing him back down. “I’m going to give you what you want,” she whispered in his ear,“Take your cock out”.

He was nervous as he did, hands shaky. She blushed a bit at his size. “It’s so big,” she said, straddling him,“I’m going to have my way with it”. “Please, do what you want to me,” he begged,“Abuse me, please”. She didn’t speak, sinking down on it. Nagito gasped, she was extremely wet. She began to bring her hips up and land straight down on it, repeatedly. She put her hands around his throat, now being rougher. Nagito gasped for air, grabbing her hands.

That was a mistake.

“Hands down,” she ordered, striking him across the face. “Sorr-”. He was slapped once again. “Only speak when you’re spoken to”. He nodded as his stomach began to cave in. His cock twitched each time she slapped him, making her moan. She leaned forward, capturing his earlobe between her teeth. He winced, his hands tangling in the sheets. He felt as though his entire body was blushing.

“You’re so sensitive there”

She teased him, kissing the skin and nibbling. His hips involuntarily snapped upward, making her whine. “You’re so desperate, baby,” she laughed,“it’s so cute”. He could feel her warmth running along his cock. He bit into his hand, trying to stop himself from cumming inside her. It worked, but she didn’t like him doing that. She grabbed his hands and kissed them.

“Don’t hurt yourself, put them right here”

She placed them on her boobs. He watched them bounce up and down, grabbing them gently. His rather large hands seemed small on her tits. He was extremely flushed. He took them off her and placed them on her hips. “Open your mouth”. He lay back more and did as he was told. She leaned forward, grabbing his jaw again as she spit into it and kissed him. He moaned when she did, his urges getting the best to him and thrusting upward. He hit her cervix every time, causing her to produce the sweetest and sluttiest of moans. Her walls tightened around him and now he was whining. “Are you gonna cum, honeybun?,” she asked.

“Y-Yes..”

“Where do you wanna cum?”

“I wanna cum...everywhere. I want it. I want it so bad. I wanna cum inside and on your tits, on your ass, y-your face..mouth. Please let me cum, mommy”

She motivated him, riding him harder. “Come on, Nagito,” she whispered,“Cum for mommy. Cum all the way inside her”. He lost his mind after that, groaning as he shot his load(s) inside her. He was still inside her as he tried catching his breath. She rubbed his chest, shushing him. “Good boy, you did so well,” she cooed,“Such a good boy.” He was covering his face, embarrassed and still hard. “I wasn’t too rough, was I?,” she asked. He shook his head, thinking,“Not rough enough”. He whined when she got off, revealing he was still erect. She noticed.

“You wanna go again, baby? Kids don’t leave school till 2:30. We have time for an extra fuck”

“C-Can I?”

“Yes, dummy”

She let Nagito choose how to fuck her. He wanted missionary, mostly because he craved intimacy and she did not disappoint. She kissed and praised him, telling him he was good. She held onto him the whole time and cuddled him afterwards. Nagito felt so special, he felt loved. “I can come over when I don’t have work,” she said,“Would you like that?”.

“I’d love that actually”

“You make me happy, Nagito. I could stay here and cuddle all day”

“I feel so lucky”

He yawned, looking at the clock. “Its 10,” he told her. She nuzzled his chest, humming. “Mmmm, let’s take a small nap,” she whispered,“Okay?”. “Okay”. He kissed the top of her head and held her to him, slowly joining her in slumber.

[heximagines]

“i’m never going to let him (loomis) hurt you again” with reader and rz michael? thank you!!!!

Ooh man I loved doing this one! Thanks for your request I hope you like it as much as I liked writing it. <3

__

It didn’t take you very long into knowing Michael to realize that his anxiety attacks manifested differently than most. Michael didn’t experience the slow creeping in of dread, the icy claws of panic that clutched your neck, or the tremors that would wrack your body until your back ached. His anxiety caused what most strong emotions bring out in Michael. Rage. But not the quiet, singleminded, calculating rage he usually felt. No, this rage was like an eruption. It was a rage that would destroy anything in it’s path. No matter how much Michael valued it in his own obsessive way. However despite Michael's perceived instability these attacks came far and few between. It didn’t seem that much really triggered Michael in this particular way. One of the few exceptions being that man.

Dr. Loomis, a disgrace to the title, was more of a boogey man in your mind than Michael could ever be. You could never understand how a so called medical professional could ever get away with labelling an abused and mentally ill child a monster and exploiting him for profit. But here he was, on your TV screen, being interviewed by and nationally broadcasted news channel. He sat in a pristine blue suit with a large easel behind him displaying the blown up cover of his book. A cover that featured a picture of Michael as a boy. Your stomach churned with disgust, bringing bile to the back of your throat. In red threatening letters the title read, ‘The Devil’s Eyes’ . Your heart ached uncomfortably. Your had flew to the remote but you didn’t even have the chance to change the cannel. Michael was already ripping the TV out of the wall and throwing it on the ground. He stomped on the screen as if it were the doctor’s face. The screen shattered under his boot and went dark but the speakers still played the man’s voice. “Debora’s passing was... Well it was unfortunate. But she couldn’t stand the monster her son-” You  rushed across the room and pulled the plug from the wall, silencing the TV. But Michael wasn’t done. He picked it up and hurled it clear across the room where it slammed into a wall. You couldn’t stop yourself from flinching. That would require some patching. Slowly you backed yourself up against a wall, and waited. You knew that if you got in Michael’s way you’d only make things worse or get yourself hurt. He needed to get as much of it out as he could.

Michael tore through the house like a hurricane, destroying everything in his path. He smashed his fist through every mirror, tore photos from the walls, he even managed to rip the counter top of your island up. All you could do was sit and wait. Finally the noises grew farther and farther apart and soon it was silent. Cautiously you maneuvered through the broken glass and bits of furniture to your’s and Michael’s shared room. Michael was right where you’d expected him to be. Sitting on the edge of the bed, his back to the door. He was done. You let your eyes run over his broad back, watching his shoulders heave as he tried to catch his breath. Calmly you retreated back out into the hall and down to the kitchen. You opened the pantry and grabbed a tray of cupcakes you’d snuck into the house earlier that day and the first aid kit you kept on hand for when Michael returned home. Now for the hard part. Your broken possessions could be replaced and your walls patched. But your boyfriend’s sense of security was delicate.

You made your way back up the stairs and into your room, you closed the door enough for it to feel private but not so much it felt like you were trapping him. Walking a wide curve around the bed you came to stand directly in front of Michael taking in the damage. His hands were torn open and caked in blood and a few stray scratches made their way  up his arms but all things considered he seemed okay. Michael stared straight ahead and with his mask you wouldn’t have been able to tell if he was looking at you if it weren’t for the fact that is stare was so piercing. You held the tray of cupcakes out as an offering. A small comfort. It took a few moments before he languidly outstretched his bloodied hand and accepted the tray. He pulled his mask up just enough and popped one of the small pastries in his mouth. If it weren’t for the circumstances this would usually amuse you, the juxtaposition of your burly serial murderer boyfriend and his love of little pink cupcakes, but right now it just felt sad. Not pathetic sad but bitter. The only piece of childhood Michael had to cling to was a sweet tooth.

You stepped closer before getting on your knees and placing the first aid kit beside you. You sat with your hands folded in your lap and waited. Timing was everything in this process. Michael continued to devour the tray letting the sugary sweet cakes ease his nerves. Soon it was empty and his mask was pulled back down into place. You open the kit with a quiet familiar click and hold your hand out. As if he was trying to decide on what he wanted to do the large man didn’t budge, but you didn’t either. Finally with some reluctance Michael placed his mit in your tiny palm. You gave it a gentle squeeze before grabbing an alcohol wipe and going about the task of cleaning away the now  congealed gore. As you cleaned his wounds you found that Michael had managed to tear off one of his nails. You bit your lip and your brows knit together in concern. You knew he wasn’t as tender as most people but it still must have hurt a lot. You cleaned carefully around it. Next you pulled out a pair of tweezers and set to work picking out all the little shards of glass. You knew this was going to take a while and you just hoped that Michael would be patient enough to let you finish. You peeked up at him through your lashes to see he was no longer staring right ahead. Instead his head was tilted down and his eyes were firmly set on you. You were so startled you almost flinched but you steadied yourself quickly. Your hands paused and you tilted your head up to look back at him.

Michael’s gaze felt different in this moment. Normally you could feel his staring from a mile away, the intensity oozing from his being. But now it was something almost softer. Michael’s hand came up to your cheek, What you think was meant to be a gentle gesture was lost in his strength and he sort of squished your cheek with his palm in a way that made a smile break your face. Little bits of glass poked at your skin and you could feel the blood transferring onto you but you didn’t care. You turned your face into Michael's palm and placed a little kiss there. “You’re safe with me, Michael. I’m never going to let him hurt you again. I promise.” Sure you knew Michael could fend for himself but you hoped that just maybe there was something comforting in your words. And you supposed there was, because Michael sat back up and let you care for his wounds without any resistance.

[spaceskam]

8 for Malex? Thanks!

*hiding because this took an embarrassing amount of time I'm sorry*

tags: high school au, slight mental health stuff goin’ on, bed sharing

8. bedtime stories [ao3]

Alex never claimed to be subtle.

He watched Michael openly, his thumb between his teeth as he eyed the way he pulled his shirt over his head. He knew this was probably inappropriate. However, Michael was hot and had yet to tell him to stop staring. Sometimes it seemed like he deliberately did things to make Alex stare. So Alex kept on and hoped that, if he was only doing this to make fun of Alex, at least he got something nice to look at.

“Hey, Alex,” Michael called, tossing his sweaty shirt into his bag and grabbing a dry one, “Do you think your brother would mind if I stayed over tonight? I don’t feel like going home.”

Alex swallowed and sat up straight. He looked around at the other guys in the locker room. He was sure one of them would say something. Magically, they didn’t. 

“Clay won’t care,” Alex said, trying to seem nonchalant. Michael closed his locker and looked at him with a massive grin as he pulled his shirt down. His hair was still damp with sweat and it stuck to his forehead. Both of those things together were too much for Alex’s sanity.

“Cool. Meet you after school at my truck?”

“Okay. Yeah.”

Michael leaned close into Alex’s face and gave a mocking, “Okay, yeah,” before he laughed and walked around Alex. He twisted on the bench and followed him with his eyes as he went to the other side of the locker room where his other friends were. They instantly started talking about the game next Friday and how they were playing Carlsbad and how their team’s cheerleaders were hot. Michael didn’t deny it and Alex tried not to feel weird about it.

Instead, he grabbed his back and quickly headed out of the locker room. He hated gym and had put it off until his senior year, but now he was stuck doing it with basically no one to talk to except sophomore loners who seemed content to fail the class. He felt that.

The only highlight of it was Michael Guerin who he got to watch work up a sweat for 45 minutes every single day of the week. He got to watch him play dodgeball with too much enthusiasm and run the mile at the fastest in the class and play put-out with his friends. Alex had, somehow, befriended him when they were freshmen and both the youngest in their math class, so they stuck together. Then sophomore year they had Spanish together, junior year they had chemistry, this year they had gym. It wasn’t much but it was enough to spark an unlikely class-only friendship that turned into a school-only friendship that turned into an actual one.

He was Alex’s favorite person in the world.

The next two classes passed by relatively quickly, solely relying on the fact that Alex wasn’t paying attention and instead doodling aimlessly in his notes. Science was boring, math was easy.

Alex let himself into Michael’s truck because he was a dumbass who never locked it and sat in the passenger seat. His notebook stayed in his lap and he kept shading in the boat he was working on as the parking lot filled with other people going to their cars and people going to their buses. Michael always talked to his fellow football players before he left considering they couldn’t leave until the buses did anyway, so Alex wasn’t in a rush.

When Michael did climb in, he raised his head to get a good look at him. Because he always wanted to get a good look at him. Today, just like most days, he looked gorgeous and lit up from the inside and he was already staring at Alex.

“What’cha drawing?” he asked, scooting to the middle to look at Alex’s book. He pressed up against his side and eyed it, nodding his head. “Nice. I’m gonna get one of those tattooed on me one day.”

“What? A boat?”

“No, one of your pieces,” Michael laughed, shaking his head as he moved back to the driver’s seat. He turned the ignition and Alex stared at the side of his face. “Whichever one you think I should. Think about it.”

And Alex would think about it. It wasn’t even the first time he thought about it. Michael had spoken of getting one of his drawings on him before and the thought was quite possibly the most erotic thing Alex could think of which was ridiculous. There was nothing sexy about that in reality. But… Michael shirtless and having something Alex created permanently on his skin was just so good.

He went back to the drawing before he could entertain putting his tongue on it.

Michael turned up the radio before backing out of his spot and then they were on their way to Alex’s house. He put his drawing down in favor of watching out the window as Michael badly sang along to Nirvana and Beck.

Junior year was the first time Michael had come over to his house and it had felt weird to acknowledge that the person he’d spoken to nearly every day for over two years knew approximately nothing about his home life. Alex had half-assed an explanation about how his mother left and his dad was in jail, so Alex only lived with his brothers. Michael hadn’t judged him, only loudly made it clear he thought Clay was badass for stepping up when he was freshly 18 to make sure the rest of them didn’t get too screwed.

It was a few more after school hangouts after that that Michael confided that he’d been in the foster care system since he was a baby and had been in a group home for the last few years. Teenage boys were a hard sell to foster parents, apparently.

Clay had no problem giving his number to the group home to call for check-ins whenever Michael started staying over. 

“Please tell me he got spicy Doritos because I‒hell yeah,” Michael said, letting himself roam freely around the kitchen. He pulled the bag of spicy nacho Doritos labeled Michael out of the pantry and ripped them open, a grin on his face. Alex could watch it all day.

“Can I steal the bar mix that you haven’t touched in, like, a month?” Flint asked, his gaze stuck on his computer where he was doing homework. His eyebrows were pulled into an angry glare at it.

“Yeah, sure, if it’s still good,” Michael answered, falling onto the couch right beside Alex and holding out the bag to him. Alex shook his head. Michael often got food obsessions and would go a month where that was all he wanted, but during bad days it was the only thing he could eat that didn’t make him lose his appetite. 

Despite the fact that he was all smiles, Alex had memorized the warning signs and knew he wouldn’t be eating dinner.

“Sweet,” Flint said, sliding to the pantry to grab the remnants of Michael’s last food obsession.

One of the warning signs that Michael wasn’t doing great, despite the fact that he’d asked to come over at all and hadn’t just invited himself, was the fact that he had taken any excuse all day to be tactile Alex. He’d spent all lunch and gym with him instead of with his football buddies, he’d wanted to sit closer in the truck, he immediately sat practically on top of him on the couch.

Later that night, he sat beside him at dinner and picked at it, only eating the crunchy asparagus and the edges of the tortilla part of his quesadilla. Alex ate what he didn’t.

Michael took a shower and wore Alex’s clothes and made himself at home in Alex’s bed, all cozy and on his phone with his thumb in his mouth when Alex got out of the shower. When they’d first started spending the night together, Michael slept on the couch or on the floor. One night they’d fallen asleep in Alex’s bed during a movie and now that’s where he went each night.

Alex didn’t mind.

He shut off the lights and jumped into bed, putting on Netflix on the TV and starting up where they’d left off in their third watch-through of The Good Place. Michael scooted closer until they were touching in some way, his eyes still partially on his phone and partially on the TV.

It should’ve bothered Alex. It should’ve felt like taunting. Occasionally he did feel the need to shake him and ask him if he really wasn’t seeing how much Alex was into him. Was the staring not enough? Was the way he got a bit dizzy whenever he realized Michael was beginning to smell like Alex’s shampoo not enough? Was Alex’s eyes tracing every bead of sweat that rolled across his face like he hadn’t had water in weeks not enough? Was every single one of Michael’s other friends mentioning that they acted “kinda gay” not enough?

But mostly Alex was fine with it. Michael was safe here and comfortable and Alex wasn’t going to ruin that by wanting something more. So he would keep his hands to himself. He wouldn’t be subtle, but he wouldn’t be overbearing. He would just be Alex and hope that was alright.

“Alex,” Michael whispered, moving until his head was on Alex’s shoulder. Alex hummed in response. “Can you tell me a bedtime story about your boat?”

Alex smiled and shifted, his fingers slipping into Michael’s hair. Michael tilted his head up until they locked eyes. They were so close, just like every time Michael requested a bedtime story, as if that was the only acceptable time to be less than an inch away from each other’s face. Alex very quietly thought that their entire friendship felt like one.

“Once upon a time, there was a very loud pirate captain,” Alex started, watching as Michael’s thumb slowly started gravitating towards his mouth again, “He was old and held very strict beliefs. If you disagreed, he’d throw you overboard.”

“What a dick.”

“Mm, yeah, very. Anyway, he was always angry and his crew were like ‘shit, what if he’s lonely’ and decided they needed to get him a friend.”

“Oh no, poor lonely pirate man,” Michael said around his thumb.

“Poor lonely pirate man indeed,” Alex agreed, nodding solemnly, “So they searched high and low for anyone to be his companion. Not someone on the crew, but someone who would be his equal and separate from his employees. It was a very complicated task. They would find people who seemed good, but then the pirate captain wouldn’t like them and kick them out. It happened so many times they almost gave up. But eventually, they found an astronaut who seemed like a good fit because he was very smart and very happy.”

Michael pulled his thumb from his mouth with a loud pop, “So they really searched high, huh?”

Alex huffed a laugh and nodded, combing back his hair. His heart thudded in his chest as he stared at him, at his interested and tired eyes. God, he was so into him. Every single bit of him. Even when he needed moments like these.

“Yeah, really high. And they brought him back to the boat to meet the captain and they really, really thought he would hate him. But you know what? He didn’t. They actually got on quite well. And the captain started becoming a lot less angry,” Alex said. Michael shifted, pressing closer.

“And did the astronaut change?”

“Mhm. He got to relax too. He didn’t feel like he had to be super smart and happy to make everyone else happy anymore, he could just be himself. He could even be sad sometimes and that was okay because he had someone who liked him no matter what,” Alex explained, “He even would stop at islands to get his favorite foods.”

“Were they just best friends or were they in love?” Michael asked. Alex swallowed carefully and scanned his eyes over his face, trying to gauge what would be a better answer.

“They started as just best friends,” Alex decided, “But they fell in love. They were both. Somewhere in between.”

“Somewhere in between?”

“Yeah, like, not quite just best friends and not quite together romantically. Something different. Something special,” Alex tried. Michael watched him closely. In the background, Eleanor watched herself fall in love with Chidi for one of the hundreds of times they fell in love and Alex tried not to be too poetic about it.

“Alex,” Michael said, his hand dropping between them, “Are we somewhere in between? It feels like we are”

The question was honestly innocent but Alex stopped breathing, not knowing how to answer. He had a football player cuddling up to him in his bed. He should say no. He should save his own ass. He should keep it to himself.

But Michael was comfortable enough to cuddle him, to be babied when he needed it, to be raw and open.

So why couldn’t Alex?

“Do you wanna be?” Alex asked. Michael blinked. “Or… like… do you wanna be somewhere… not in between?”

“Like, on the other side? The romantic side?” Michael clarified. Alex nodded slowly, unsure. “Does it mean I get goodnight kisses?”

Alex let out a slow breath and laughed cautiously, “If you want them.”

“I want them,” Michael said assuredly. Alex couldn’t fucking think straight and he was just smiling stupidly at him. “Well?”

“Well, what?”

“Goodnight kisses, right here,” Michael said, tapping his lips delicately.

“Right. Okay.”

Alex moved his head just a little to give him a soft kiss, barely lasting a few seconds. He didn’t want to be too presumptuous. And, still, it was probably the best kiss he’d ever had in his life. His heart was trying to escape his chest.

He was really doing this. This was really happening.

“Did they live happily ever after, Alex?” Michael asked against his lips. Alex breathed and nodded.

“Yeah. They did.”

[heartbreakgrill]

Anyone Else; Calum Hood

You leaned down over Calum’s shoulder, blocking out the bright sunset behind the two of you. He inhaled, reveling in the coconut scent of your shampoo, fused with sunscreen and chlorine-d pool water. He shook his head lightly, reminding himself to open his eyes and focus on the phone in his hand. You lifted your free hand, that wasn’t cradling a White Claw, and pointed at a profile.

“She’s super cute! I feel like she’s your type,” you commented at the picture of a taller girl, sporting fishnets and a Led Zeppelin.

“You think I’m only into girls who like rock?” Calum chuckled a little.

You shrugged, moving away to tug over a free camping chair. You leaned back in, giving Calum the view of your neck as your hair fell away from it. He licked his lips as you spoke again, “I mean, I think you look good next to someone like that based on how you dress and shit. If you’re not into that, dont let me pressure you.”

You giggled and twisted around to look at him. His eyes focused in on yours, “Uh, yeah. Or, no, youre good. Youre not pressuring me. Just helping, right?”

“Right,” you scrunched your eyes in a beat, to show you were somewhat confused by his confusion. “Anyways, swipe right or left and lets move along.”

“Okay.” Cal did as you said, allowing the screen to switch to another girl.

“Oh, no, no, she looks too much like Crystal,” you giggled lightly. “Love Crystal, but that’d be creepy.”

“So I can’t like anyone who looks like anybody in our friend group?” Calum remarked, his heart hoping you wouldn’t break it by what you would reply with.

You wriggled in your seat, “I dont know. I feel like its weird. If they look like Luke, Ill allow it.”

His lips fumbled before his brain could reach out and grasp the words and shuffle them back into a drawer, “What if they look like you?”

“Yeah, right,” you looked back at him, “I’m unique. One of a kind, baby.”

Calum flushed as you spoke. He fumbled again, about to spill again, when Sierra called your name from the pool. “Show me that boy from last weekend?”

You quickly got up, excusing yourself from Calum, and pranced across the concrete patio to the fire pit, where Luke and Sierra were cuddled up, talking to another one of your friends. Calum tried not to break his neck and watch you animatedly talk about your Tinder date last Saturday. Yet he knew it was noticeable he was trying to pry.

He felt a hand slap down on his shoulder and Calum jumped in his seat. Michael took your seat, Crystal trailing along behind and slinking into his lap. “You got it bad, mate.”

Crystal grinned at him, “You really do.”

Calum shook his head, “Dont know what youre talking about.”

“Oh, my God,” Michael pressed his fingers to his forehead, eyes cartwheeling in their sockets. “Seriously, I never understand situations like this. I dont think it’d ruin your friendship if you asked to kiss her and she rejected you.”

“It wouldn’t,” Calum remarked, speaking the honest truth. He shifted in his seat, glancing at you before meeting Michael’s eyes. “But it would ruin me. And I dont really want a broken heart right now.”

Crystal’s eyes widened and she leaned forward. “Cal, is it worse than we thought?”

“Worse?” Michael furrowed his brows, looking between the two before realization hit him like chance. “Oh, shit. Dude?”

Calum stood suddenly, tossing his empty beer can in the garbage. “I’m going home. See ya later.”

He didn’t give them the chance to say anything else as he gathered his damp towel, shoes, and bag from around him. He passed through the kitchen, waving lazily to Ashton and Kay, who were preparing the food for s’mores.

“Not staying?” Ashton called after him.

He heard Kay mutter something else to him and Ashton shocked a small, “Oh.”

You finished telling the story of Matt, who you had gone on a date with last week as Calum was pulling out of the driveway. “Yeah, but I don’t know if I’m going see him again.”

“Why?” Luke asked, puzzled by the fact that you sounded like you were really interested in him for the past five minutes, but didn’t wanna go on another date.

“I dont know,” you crossed your arms. “He’s just not my type. He’s kinda, like, stern. He’s funny, but funny in an unconventional way. He doesnt seem like he’d, I dont know, be playful in a relationship. Does that make sense? i want a guy who can be playful, but who’s mature.”

Sierra grinned to herself, nudging Luke with her elbow. “Yeah, that makes sense. Hey, ya know, Y/N?”

“Hm?” You looked to her.

Luke took over, “We know someone who’s like that.”

“Oh!” You smiled wider, “Who?”

You felt Michael slink an arm over your shoulder, whisper in your ear, “Calum.”

You moved from under him, his weight overbearing to you. “Yeah, okay.”

“What’s wrong with him?” Crystal sat on the couch across from Sierra.

“Nothings wrong. Hes just super out of my league. Plus, I’m not his type. I’m all, strawberries and picnics and, like, Hozier. He listens to Nickelback and he’d rather go to a club than kayak. I dont know, I feel like he wouldn’t like me because of my interests.”

“Cal’s a softer, you know that, right?” Luke replied. “Hes a big rockstar, yeah, but he loves hiking and nature, too.“

“He loves y- ow!” Michael groaned out, Crystal interrupting him with a shove to the ribs.

You gave him a strange look before looking back to Luke, “I know, but still. He’s still out of my league.”

-

The weeks passed, more pool parties and barbecues filling your lengthened free summer days that you weren’t working or going on sporadic Tinder dates. You’d been on five total, with four different guys. Each party brought more stories, more tall tales of Derek, the free lance artist who wore a scarf and ordered you red wine, Gideon, the police officer who hadn’t put his career in his bio, and got slightly upset when you talked about your advocacy for human rights. Spencer was just weird, with piles of facts, criticizing your jokes for being politically incorrect or scientifically impossible. However, Aaron was nearly perfect. He was super sweet, dressed like a normal person, and laughed at your jokes, agreed passionately with your advocacy.

Each time you retold a story, Calum would slide down in his seat, frown at the world around him, excuse himself from the party too soon. You were catching on slightly, smelling the jealousy seeping from his pores, though it was masked by chlorine. You figured he was just jealous because he couldn’t manage to match with a good enough woman on Tinder. So, tonight- though you had to leave early for a date with Aaron- you would most definitely find him a match.

Calum had arrived early to Luke’s house to get the meat started on the grill. He was flipping a few burgers, sipping at his first beer with absentminded concentration. His mind wandered as Luke rambled off his ear about something he saw on Twitter. Luke laughed at a joke he made, while Calum’s eyes lost focus and went blurry. His thoughts swirled with you- your shampoo, and its coconut scent that reminded him of his first crush in middle school. Your eyes were seen in so many, so similar, yet freckled with so much heartbreak and kindness that emitted from your soft spoken lips and light hands that had contact with the stars.

He didn’t care if he would look better next to a girl with jet black hair and a perfect body. He didn’t care if they played bass, too, or if they were famous and loved The Rolling Stones. He didn’t care if she was hard headed and loud. He liked that you were soft and quiet- he was, too. He loved that you dressed so different; your floral patterns went well with his dark jeans t-shirt combos. He didnt care about things looked, just how they felt. And things with you...Hell, you felt good.

Calum jumped as Luke shouted, “Youre burning the burger- Cal!”

Calum dropped his beer can, spilling the liquid all over his bare feet as he grasped for the spatula. He tossed a burnt burger into the trash with a huff, scooping the others onto a tray. “Sorry.”

Luke shook his head, sitting down beside Calum, who was dipping his feet into the water to clean them off. “What’s your problem, mate? You’ve gotten so quiet lately. Especially when Y/N’s around.”

“Part of me is hoping I’ll be able to fight the urge to kiss her if I just stop talking to her. But, then she comes around and i cant stop talking to her. We get on so well,” Calum murmured, though Luke could hear.

“Yeah?” Luke urged him, feeling proud he could get Cal to say so much. He was a quiet person, a loud jokester in social situations, but so soft and enclosed about himself.

Calum shook his head, huffed, “I cant settle for somebody else. I know that sounds selfish and stupid, but she’s all I want. She’s all I’ve wanted since i met her. She’s so perfect and good and...she makes me feel good. I dont know. Its not impossible for her to like me back, but she’s so obsessed with the idea of someone being her type. Its like she’s afraid to just take a chance and love someone who she doesnt have figured out. She wants it all to be certain and specific and exactly the way she expects it to be.”

Luke sighed, creating small ripples with his feet in the pool, “Cal, Y/N is like a literal angel. She’s gentle and quiet and contained and confirmed. She’s perfect, like you said. But, Sierra knows her so well. She keeps herself like that because she’s been heartbroken before. So many times before. She’s scared, yes. But I think shed be willing to give you a chance if you just tell her...tell her exactly what it is.”

“What do you mean?” Calum already knew everything about Y/N. But, he didnt want Luke to think he was obsessive even though she knew everything about Cal, too.

Luke shrugged, both of their head’s turning to the patio door as it opened. “I dont know. But, you do. Just tell her.”

“How will I know if I’m saying the right things?”

“You just will.”

Sierra led you over to a lounge chair, sitting beside you as you slipped out of your sandals and tugged off your shirt. You were left in your bikini top and shorts, a combination that made Calum’s heart palpitate. He took the courage from Luke’s words and stood, walking over to you.

“Yeah, so if he ever wants to...” Sierra trailed off as Calum’s shadow fell over the two of you.

He gave you a shy smile as Sierra grinned and excused herself.

“Hey, Cal,” your lips lifted, eyes following him as he sat next to you. “How’ve ya been?”

“Good, you?” He was shy. He knew you could tell, too. His eyes kept switching between yours and his hands, your lips and...

“I’m okay. A little burnt out. Work has been busy because its summertime. High fashion and stuff, ya know?” You laughed, jabbing at a joke. Your eyes glinted when Calum tossed his head back and laughed.

“Yeah, I know, dont you see my high-end swim shorts?” He made a motion to show off his pants, and you admired him.

“Cute,” you replied. A beat of silence passed before your phone made a noise. You didnt touch it, knowing it was rude to do so, but your brows flicked up. “Oh! Have you matched with any other girls on Tinder? If you haven’t, I’m making it my mission to find you someone else.”

“How am I supposed to think about anyone else?” He blurted out suddenly.

You stopped smiling, blood freezing and your body turning stiffly. “What?”

“Uh,” Calum thought, wondering how he should go about this. “Theres a million little things I haven’t told you. I cant go on keeping them to myself. And pretending I want anyone else.”

You met his eyes and Calum felt the world melt away. Like a focused lens on a camera, he only saw you, your golden little halo. Your shocked expression.

“Cal,” you hesitated, “Aaron.”

“Is he the guy you want to hold you?” Calum whispered.

You visibly shivered, your heart beating out of your chest.

“It kills me thinking of you with him,” he paused, “you and i could have it good. I dont know him, but I know myself, and I know that I can love you so much better than he could.”

You shook your head, sweat pooling on your hands and the back of your neck. “No, Cal. Please. Dont make it hard.”

“It’s not hard unless you make it hard,” Calum spoke as soon as you began to stand.

“No, its not supposed to be hard. I want it to be easy for once,” you said.

Calum grabbed your hand, turning you back around, “It is. I know were so different, and I’m on the road all the time, and I’m fucked up because of people from my past. I know I smoke, and you help clean up cigarette butts in the park and I’m silent when I shouldn’t speak, but if you jump, Ill jump, too. C’mon, please?”

You finally met his eyes, feeling the rhythm of your heart steady. “I know its dramatic, but I’m just so afraid. So many guys have hurt me and made me feel ugly. I carry myself in a way that allows protection and routine. I hate the idea of some disturbance because disturbance has always meant hurt. Cal...i could love you. I think I’m very close to loving you, but i dont know if i can let myself.”

“I do love you, and I’m letting myself,” Calum stepped closer, tugging you to close the distance more. “Just let go.”

With silent permission, his hands slipped around your waist and your clutched his t-shirt. Your fists were tight, your lips stoic. Until you felt a lock pick inside your soul and you relaxed.

TAG LIST: @mantlereid @boxofteenageideas

, @dinosaursandsocks , @ashhdaniellee95 @zhangyixingxing1

[needlepcint]

INTRODUCING...

          HALLE BAILEY, CIS WOMAN, 20, SHE / HER   ⟨  ✽  ⟩   hey, you haven’t bumped into nia williams lately, have you ? they have been living here for the past two years ( during the school semester ) and during that time, locals have gotten to know them as quirky & charming.  a little birdie told me they can be quite vain & devious  though. explains why they’re an architecture major at whitby university. they really remind me of field time at six am and still making your eight am looking flawless, spandex shorts under short skirts paired with high heels you can run in, && impeccably manicured hands handling any power tool with ease. if you’re ever looking for them, i bet you can find them around the retro room. 

HIGHLIGHTS...

          the daughter raised by a single father, a former nhler, though also with the help of his teammates’ wives and girlfriends — a unique situation that shaped her life ; a lover of beauty, no matter what it may be, but a little obsessed with it when it comes to herself ; tiny but with a nose for scoring, speed, and elusiveness on the field that’s made her a two time women’s soccer mvp and she’s only a junior ; sometimes comes across as a little ditzy and airheaded, but though she has the look of a girly-girl, looks can be deceiving and certainly don’t underestimate her ; has an incredible knack for turning old things into new and desired items, mostly with regards to furniture and knicknacks.

THE STORY...

— cole harbour, nova scotia, the birthplace of sidney crosby the next one, eight years later — nathan mackinnon, and six years after that : nia williams. her birth was unplanned, however ; her mother only twenty and working towards med school. her father a halifax mooseheads player just having fun at her conception, now twenty-two and playing out his dreams in the nhl with the montreal canadians.

— things always work out in the end, though, and at twenty-two her father became her sole guardian and growing up quite a bit in the process, her mother vanishing from her life at that point and never re-entering.

— she was technically raised by a single father, but she was also perhaps raised by the veterans on the team and most importantly, the wives and girlfriends of her father’s teammates whose care she was left in the care of during games. it was them that taught her the things that her father couldn’t, and nia never wanted for her mother, that space happily and willingly filled by almost two dozen women who were older sisters, mothers, aunts... they were family.

— but even with all the make up and fashion advice, nia was very much her father’s daughter as well : crawling around the outdoors, going one-on-one on the ice, swimming in the ocean and still looking flawless while doing it. michael williams was a good father in the end, and grew into the role.

— she play hockey and soccer growing up, seeming to have a nose for offense, as elusive on skates as in cleats. nia could’ve been great at both sports, was great at both sports, but in the middle of high school she made the switch to focus on soccer full time. her passion for the ice remained, but the opportunities in soccer were stronger — and she loved the outdoors, loved the field in the early hours of morning.

— it was in the summer after grade 11 that she was offered a scholarship from whitby university to play women’s soccer ( amongst others ), but whitby fit the bill for what she wanted, and port briar reminded her a lot of home in cole harbour with the chilly sea. so after graduation, she was off to whitby to play soccer.

— on the college scene, it became obvious that nia simply put, was a star. a small but ever elusive forward who had speed that didn’t seem possible with her stature and an ability to score like no one else. the campus loved her, the team loved her, and opposing teams loved to hate her on the field. she was named mvp of the team as a freshman, a feat she would repeat her sophomore year as well. she’s currently gunning for her third.

MISC...

— architecture feels like an odd choice for those who don’t know nia well. she tends to come across as a little bit of an airhead, ditzy, not always the greatest with common sense. but she is actually quite book smart and sometimes, the ditziness is just a bit of an act. she had fostered a bit of FASCINATION with arenas having been in so many growing up, she began to harbor a desire to design one ( and to do it better ). sketching had been something that held her attention when she needed to be seated and still, and that fit in perfectly. after entering whitby undeclared, nia found herself drawn to the architecture department and program, officially declaring at the end of her freshman year.

— nia is hardly ever still : tapping fingers, jumping knees, sitting and then standing. she was diagnosed with adhd when she was seven. she is medicated for it now, but it also still manifests in attention deficient for her, leaving a wake of unfinished projects in her wake. sports had been one of the few things that held her attention, kept her occupied, and one of the few things she worked to hone her skills in.

— because of her tendency to jump from one thing to another, it’s no surprise she had a litany of hobbies that she’s tried : you name it, she’s likely tried it once. everything from yoga, to sewing, to painting, to rock climbing. in some ways it’s made her a bit of a jack of all trades, though she always comes back to soccer in the end. 

— however, one of thing did stick, kinda. in high school she took a woodworking class and from that spawned a hobby of furniture upcycling. her father had always been good with his hands and she knew her way around power tools, still does. she takes great pride in being able to fix things to be usable again, and loves to shop around the retro room or drive around port briar looking for things left at the curb. it can’t be a huge project though, like anything, if it’s not done in one go, chances are she may never return to finish the project. 

— she lives in an off-campus apartment this year after spending the first two in dorms. she’s looking forward to having her own space and kitchen ( even with roommates ).

— rigid schedules help her to keep organized when her natural tendency is to fall back into messiness and chaos. living with a neat roommate has helped her in some ways, because though messiness is her tendency, she finds that neatness helps her to keep focused and on track. being reminded to clean every week has been good for her.

— her favorite color is red and she has a penchant for red nails and red lipstick.

— her father is now an assistant hockey coach in the ncaa, but not at whitby. she sees him when that school in in town though she’s always rooting for whitby. her summers are spent back in cole harbour and she is still in touch with some of the wives and girlfriends who she’d been so close to.

— she’s an early bird, as odd as it is. she’s always loved sunrises over the atlantic ocean. you can find her either on the field or out for a run in the early hours, and then when the snow flies, likely doing yoga.

PERSONALITY...

— on the surface nia is very much a pretty girl. always looking flawless, a little ditzy, a little shallow. her smile is her weapon and she uses it to get people on her side. she likes people to like her, though one might hesitate to truly classify her as a nice girl or a mean girl. she ends up falling somewhere in the middle as most people do, never mean without cause but not friends with anyone. her enemies aren’t always obvious, something kept under wraps with petty glares and muttered comments. she doesn’t go looking for trouble, but if it crosses her path she meets it head on. her soccer star status has endeared her with some and made her just as many enemies, especially on their rival teams. she’s generally sweet to everyone she meets, but wrong her and she’ll be the first to be shit talking behind your back.

— men and women alike find her charming, something that suits her tastes. she’s been in a fair number of flings, though nothing that she ever saw as longterm. nia in general doesn’t look at the big picture, which has frustrated some who saw something more with her. but people still love her all the same. it’s a power she pretends to not know she has, but she’s more devious than her lipsticked smiles portray her to be.

— she has a thing for looks, rarely looking less than pristine herself, even in the middle of practice on a hot pre-season day. beauty, she’s been told, starts on the inside, and she does believe that, but helping along the outside never hurts either. she likes to feel good about herself, and comfort doesn’t always take precedence.

— nia always has a schedule, but at the same time, she’s almost always late. time management is a thing she’s still working on, and the only advice is to tell her anything is fifteen minutes earlier than it is.

— she’s a pretty girl, but has never felt like she had to stick to that box. instead, she has a way of just looking flawless no matter what that does. people judge her from her appearance and she knows that, but she also relishes in being able to prove people wrong. she knows her way around a math class and almost every power tool there is, she’s not afraid to get dirty --- just looking bad, so she’ll find a way to make mud look flawless. she’s obsessed with beauty, just not always the most conventional forms of it.

APPEARANCE...

— 5′0″, built lithe and fast.

— style : cute and cottagecore on the daily, but isn’t afraid to toe the line into edgy for nights out. a bit of “hardness” can make its way into her outfit in blacks and faux leathers matched with flowy silks and puff sleeves. she can make the switch from “good girl” to “bad girl” as quickly as she wants, depending on how she’s feeling that day.

— jewelry : an absolute sucker for jewelry. often is on esty too often despite her already extensive collection of bracelets, necklaces, and rings. her style is often dainty jewelry, though she doesn’t discriminate.

— tattoos : a small butterfly on the back of her left shoulder

— scars : several small nicks and almost invisible ones

OOC...

hiiii. it’s ollie again ✌️😎... and bc i normally play hockey bois... here’s my self-indulgent tie to hockey via nia whoops.

[taeken-my-heart]

Moirai Epilogue

Summary: On your 18th birthday a name appears on your wrist. The name of your soulmate. It’s a momentous day that everyone looks forward to, but you’ve always brushed aside; refusing to believe in a fickle mistress called destiny. But what happens when on the morning of your 18th birthday you wake to find the name of your mortal enemy? Jeon Jungkook.

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader Genre: Soulmates au/ Enemies to lovers au. Angst, fluff, bickering, romance, eventual smut.

Word Count: 3503

Warnings: None! It’s just a big old fluff fest. I hope you enjoy!!

**********

The morning was warm, stuffy with heat under the bedsheets, but your arms goose bumped in the air conditioning of your bedroom. Jungkook’s fingers traced your belly; stretched to what felt like capacity and you sighed as his nose buried itself in your neck.

The house was quiet; a rare morning when children weren’t screaming and work schedules didn’t clash. Granted, you were currently on maternity leave, so you really only had Jungkook’s schedule to worry about.

“Morning.” He murmured against the cusp of your ear, voice husky with sleep. You smiled, reaching back to palm the round of his backside and his chest rumbled against your back. “Ah,” he gasped, lurching forward, “be careful not to start something you don’t want to finish.” He joked and you peered at him over your shoulder, smile wide.

“I always finish what I start.” You murmured. He grinned, pressing his lips against yours, moving you onto your back so he could twist a leg around your waist. His mouth was warm from sleep and you threaded fingers through the sweat dampened curls at the back of his head as he kissed you deep.

His skin was bare, easy access as you let your fingers roam his back and he splayed his fingers across the protrusion of your belly between you. He was obsessed with you pregnant, insisted he’d have 10 more children with you if you could always look this beautiful and round.

 At seven months, you felt like a beached whale, so you were happy at least one of you was deriving pleasure from all of this. His fingers danced along your hip and down your thigh, pulling it to rest across his waist as he kissed you firmer and you smiled into him.

 A beautiful cocktail of love and early morning deliria. “Mommy?” from the doorway a tiny voice spoke and both you and Jungkook moved away from each other.

 Your three-year-old stood by the door, fingers twisting in the cotton of her frilly pink nightgown and you smiled as she watched you with curious round eyes. “Good morning, baby.” You greeted. Harin smiled, running to your side of the bed and climbing up with a huff of exertion. She kissed your cheek wet and you wrapped your arms around her little body, rocking her back and forth.

 Jungkook smiled at the two of you, stroking a long curl from Harin’s face as she peered at him over your shoulder. “Morning princess.” He greeted and she giggled, soft and sweet, stretching her neck to give him a kiss. “Where’s your brother?”

“In his room.” She said, snuggling deep into your chest, fingers tapping at your belly curiously. “Mommy, when do I get my new baby?”

 You grinned, running your fingers through her hair, detangling as you went. “Not too much longer now. This baby has got to stay safe and warm for two more months and then they can come out.”

 “Minseok told me how you got a baby in your tummy.” She said, lifting her head from your shoulder and your eyebrows rose, glancing sideways at Jungkook.

 “Oh?” You hummed and she nodded.

 “Yes. He said daddy put a watermelon seed in your bellybutton and it got big, big, bigger and a baby got there now.”

 “He did, did he?” You chuckled and she nodded, cheeks rounding in a smile. “Ah, well, it’s a little different than that, but a watermelon seed sounds like fun, huh?”

 “Harin-ie,” Jungkook cooed and she looked over at him, doe eyed innocence to match his own expression, “Come get Minseok with me, hmm?” She nodded, jumping down from the bed and you watched Jungkook grab his sweats from beside the bed, pulling them on under the privacy of the covers before he stood, allowing your daughter to take his hand and lead him from the room.

 You laid in bed a little longer, enjoying the serene peace of the morning. Minseok had a little league game later today and you still needed to get up and pack a picnic for after. For now, though, you had time to just lay and be still.

 The late spring brought with it the melancholy of approaching summer. When summer ended, your little Minseok would start kindergarten and that made you inexplicably sad. He was a force of nature, charging into every opportunity life had to offer him like an over eager puppy. Sporty like his dad and strong willed like yourself, there was no need to be worried about him in this new adventure. No, it was more that you would miss him.

 Jungkook paused at your bedroom door on his way to the kitchen, Minseok and Harin running noisily by with giggles and bare feet slapping the hardwood floors. “Did you need help up, my love?”

 You smiled, lifting your arms in the air and wiggling your fingers. He chuckled, coming to your side and pulling you to a stand, hooking an arm around your waist and kissing you silly. “I love you.” He whispered.

 “I love you too.” You hummed against his mouth before pulling away and rubbing at your stomach. “I’ve gotta go pee, this kid is literally sitting directly on top of my bladder.”

 ***

The kitchen was filled with morning sunshine when you finally entered. Jungkook was stood at the gas range in nothing but his sweats, back to you as he made pancakes for your children. You had a thing for backs and his flexed while he worked leaving you flustered and warm. You walked up behind your children, leaving a kiss on Minseok’s head as he played with his dinosaur figurines at the kitchen island.

 “Hi mommy.” He hummed distractedly and Jungkook glanced over his shoulder at you, smiling as you waddled around the kitchen, gathering plates and cups.

 “Don’t look at me like that,” you glowered teasingly, “you did this to me.”

 “And I enjoyed every second of it.” He smirked, wiggling his eyebrows up and down. You snorted softly, smacking his butt as you walked by before setting the table.

 “Come sit at the table.” You called, helping Harin down from her stool and poking Minseok in his side as he continued to play at the island. “Go, go.”

 He pouted, gathering his collection of dinosaurs before sliding from his seat and making his way to the table. You grabbed some fruit, quickly chopping and dropping them into a large bowl. Jungkook was humming softly behind you as he flipped a pancake and you couldn’t help but think that not that many years ago, this had all seemed so impossible.

 It had been almost seven years now so memories were foggy, but this type of happiness had seemed completely unobtainable. Married with children, and with Jungkook no less. Sometimes you felt a little crazy, too. Three children under the age of 6? You were definitely insane.

 You smiled as Minseok roared loudly, using one dinosaur to kill another while Harin huddled beside him in her chair, watching a video on the tablet. You loved your life so much you could hardly express it. The words of your mother echoed in your mind, always telling you how worth it this would all be. You hadn’t believed her at the time, but now you knew.

 Jungkook wrapped his arms around you from behind, kissing your cheek and you melted into him. “Are the pancakes burning?”

 “No,” he hummed, chin settling against your collarbone. “they’re all done, just waiting for fruit. Should I get whipped cream?”

 “They don’t need the extra sugar.” You shook your head. Jungkook ran his hands along your belly absentmindedly, breath warm against your cheek. “You’re obsessed.” You chuckled and his lips pulled into a grin against your neck.

 “True.” He admitted. Minseok squealed loudly at the table and you looked up in time to see Harin racing away with one of his dinosaurs. You laughed, rolling your eyes.

 “Can you go get her please?” You sighed and Jungkook nodded, kissing at your cheek once more before releasing you and following after a little raven-haired girl with contraband. “Daddy is getting your toy, baby.” You called to Minseok as he wailed loudly at the table.

 After finishing breakfast, you returned to the kitchen, pulling out the picnic basket and searching through the fridge while Jungkook got the kids dressed. You enjoyed making and packing lunch, it made you feel disgustingly domestic.

 You could hear the tinkling laughter of your daughter in her bedroom, squeals of delight as Jungkook chased her around her room. You never realized how much it would mean to you to have a husband who played with his kids.

 “Are grandma and grandpa coming today?” Minseok asked, walking back in to the kitchen with his little league bag dragging behind him. He was dressed in his uniform and looking so cute you kind of wanted to squeeze him a little.

 “Yeah, and Aunty Ella, Uncle Michael, Charlie, and Celeste.”

 “Can I bring extra chocolate milk for Charlie and Celeste?” Minkseok asked, coming to stand beside you and you ran your fingers through his shaggy dark hair, humming an affirmative.

 “Yes, of course. I’ll pack snacks for everyone. You really need a haircut.” You remarked. Minseok shook your hand free from his hair and you returned to packing the basket as he patted his hair down, watching you work.

 “I don’t want a haircut.” He quipped and you shrugged.

 “Suit yourself. Tell me how you feel after you play the game today; you might not be able to see well.”

 “I want hair like daddy’s!” Minseok insisted and you smiled as Jungkook entered the room, following after a little pink princess with a brush and some hair ties.

 “Well, daddy does look handsome with his hair like that.” You admitted. Harin stopped by your feet, holding the brush high into the air. “Need help?” She nodded and you lead her to the couch, sitting her on the foot rest in front of you.

 **

 Walking was no longer a fun activity. When Jungkook and you were first dating and into the first year of your marriage, you enjoyed taking walks often. You got to talk, laugh, and just get to know one another. Throw in a little bit of exercise and fresh air and it was the perfect after dinner activity.

 Unfortunately, pregnant walks were not quite the same. You were waddling heavily at this point and the only thing keeping you from throwing a massive fit was Jungkook’s hand at the small of your back and Harin clinging tight to your fingers.

 Minseok was rambunctious and outgoing, but your daughter was his polar opposite; shy and soft spoken. She didn’t particularly enjoy large crowds and she hated loud noises. You and Jungkook had taken to whispering the happy birthday song to her for her last two birthdays because loud singing made her cry.

 Minseok rushed ahead, finding his friends on the team and talking animatedly with them as Jungkook set up your seats and you placed the picnic basket down by your feet. It was unreasonably heavy for just sandwiches and snacks.

 Jungkook helped you sit in your seat before pulling Harin into his lap and sitting down. She curled into his chest, fore and middle fingers sliding into her mouth for comfort. You tried to bat her hand from her mouth but your stomach was in the way and Jungkook just shrugged that she looked cute like that.

 “It won’t be so cute when she’s 14 and sucking her fingers in class.” You huffed and he grinned, tickling under your chin.

 “She’ll grow out of it by then, baby.” He reached his hand across empty space, linking fingers with yours and you sighed, leaning your head back against your chair as you waited for the game to start.

 Your family trickled in slowly, giving hugs and handshakes and Ella sat her chair beside yours with a smile. You watched as her son Charlie ran to go say hello to his cousin and Celeste walked to Jungkook’s side, talking excitedly with Harin who listened quietly. Celeste was loud and outgoing; a real social butterfly.

 Despite the fact that Celeste and Harin were nearly the same age, your baby hadn’t figured out what to make of her yet. Ella chuckled, watching her daughter talk Harin’s ear off and she rubbed her hand up and down your arm.

 “I hope someday they’ll be as close as us.”

 “Me too.” You smiled.

 The day was warm and the sky was clear. Harin was quickly lulled to sleep by the heat, fingers drooping halfway from her mouth, even despite the loud cheers from the parents watching the game. Minseok was every bit the sporty kid that his father was. Like a wrecking ball with the opposing team, he barreled through like it was nothing, kicking the ball into the goal.

 It was impressive now and he wasn’t even 5 yet. You could only imagine what he would be like once he got a little older. The spitting image of his father, he brushed his hair from his face, dripping sweat across his forehead and down his neck.

 “He sweats like you.” You remarked and Jungkook smiled, nodding.

 “Yeah, poor kid.”

 “I brought some extra snacks today.” Ella said, eyeing her children as they both stood on the sidelines, Charlie with his arms held high in celebration and Celeste clinging tight to her teddy bear, head whipping to the side as Minseok’s team ran by with the ball.

 “Oh good,” you remarked, “I have plenty for everyone to eat, but extra snacks are definitely appreciated. I brought lots of extra chocolate milk at Minseok’s request. “

 Ella chuckled, “He and Charlie are such chocoholics.”

 “It’s hereditary.” You muse.

 Minseok’s team won by two points and you smiled, huffing and puffing as you made to stand and cheer. He smiled over at you, waving his arms high above his head from beside his team. Harin was just barely waking up so Jungkook stood up beside you, Harin wrapping her legs around his waist and letting her head droop sleepily on his shoulder.

 Minseok was greeted with loud congratulations by your family as he came charging over and you wrapped him in a hug as best as your pregnant belly would allow. Ella took the picnic basket as you made to reach for it and your dad and Michael helped to carry the seats away from the field and further into the park, over by the lake.

 It was muggy and warm, but there was a breeze by the water and you enjoyed comfortable conversation with your family while the kids played. Ella was in the process of opening her own salon and all the hoops she had to jump through to make it work made your head spin.

 “I don’t know how you do it. I would have had a major meltdown by now.” You commented and Michael laughed.

 “Oh she has, in the privacy of our room.”

 “And a couple crying sessions in the bathroom too,” Ella nodded, “but I’m no quitter and I really want this.”

 “You girls always were a couple of go getters. Don’t know how I got so lucky.” Your mom smiled.

 “You really are pretty lucky.” You sighed, dusting your fingernails off against your chest and your mom laughed, swatting at you.

 Harin came over to sit beside you, munching on her sandwich as conversation continued and you wiped at her chin as sauce dripped over her lips. A perfect mixture between you and Jungkook; you were kind of obsessed with her.

 You spent the rest of the afternoon eating and playing together, enjoying the freedom a weekend afforded you. The men had a race with the kids while you sat with your mother and sister chatting, Harin coming to sit in your lap as soon as the others started running, fingers immediately dipping into her mouth.

 Timid by nature, she steered clear of things she thought might scare or exhaust her. You hoped she would outgrow this, but you’d love her regardless. At home she was loud and liked to bully her older brother, so there was always hope.

 Later that evening, after the kids were in bed, you retreated to your own room, Jungkook close behind. He went to go brush his teeth and you changed into a nightgown with enough room to breathe. Jungkook liked to refer to it as your muumuu and you let him because you agreed. It was comfortable, though, and this far along into your pregnancy and with summer just around the corner, you were in serious need of comfortable clothing.

 Jungkook brought you your toothbrush and you smiled your thanks, running your free hand through strands of raven hair. He hummed, moving his head further into your hand and you chuckled around foaming toothpaste.

 After finishing in the bathroom, you shuffled into bed, twisting and turning with way too many groans to be acceptable and you grinned as Jungkook laughed. “Was that really necessary?” He teased.

 “No,” you admitted, “but it sure is fun to see your face when I do it.”

 He laid down beside you, wrapping his arms around your waist and you laid your head on his chest as you allowed your breathing to even out. The house was quiet and dark, two sleeping babies down the hall and a moment of solitude before Jungkook returned to work tomorrow.

 It had been really nice to have his help today; often times it was just you and the kids and while you loved the moments you got to spend with them, you craved his adult conversation. Life had not turned out the way you had expected, but those twists and turns had brought you to where you were now and that pain taught you what real joy is.

 “Jungkook?” You whispered and he hummed against the crown of your head. “Are you happy with this? With our life together and with me?”

 He pulled away to look down at you, eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

 “Just that you’re amazing and you’re very handsome, you could have had your pick of anyone. I hope you don’t regret your choice.”

 Jungkook smiled, running his thumb down your cheek. “I don’t regret my choice; it was the best one I could have ever made. I only wanted you.”

 You cuddled closer, heart thumping excitedly in your chest. “Even when I’m round and puffy like this?” you teased and he laughed.

 “You know I love you pregnant. I’d put another one in you if you’d let me.”

 You laughed, kissing at his chin. “Yeah, we’ll see about that, buddy. We agreed on three.”

 “Yeah, but imagine two of each. That would be so fun.” He sighed, dreamy. His chest was warm, rising slowly with his breath and you felt sleepy resting against him. “Y/N?”

 “Yes?” You whispered, eyes still closed and ready to fall asleep.

 “Are you happy with me? Do you feel like you made the right decision?”

 Your eyes blinked blearily open before moving up at look at him and you smiled. “I’ve never been happier. You gave me everything I ever wanted out of life, plus, you’re really sexy.” Jungkook rolled his eyes at you, but he couldn’t hide his grin. “I’m so glad you decided to try again and that you were so patient while I was figuring things out. Our life is way better than I’d ever imagined it could be.”

 “I love you, Y/N.” He smiled and your heart jumped. You’d never get used to it; the feeling of being loved by your soulmate, the feeling of being loved by Jungkook. Like a bird soaring high, your chest rose with emotion; you felt alive with him. You’d never thought it would be possible to love someone as much as you loved him, but for once you were so glad to be absolutely wrong.

 “I love you too, Jungkook.”

 He leaned down to kiss you, smothering you with his weight and you grinned into his mouth, wrapping your arms around his neck. “If you weren’t already pregnant, that would totally be changing tonight.” He huffed against your lips and you chuckled.

 “I’m too tired to make a baby anyway so thank goodness she’s already in there.”

 He whined, mouthing at your neck and you sighed, letting his fingers trail over your hip and down your leg. “Just let me warm you up and you tell me if you’re too tired then.” He murmured and you nodded, kissing your way back to his mouth.

 “Mommy!” Harin wailed loudly from her room and you laughed as Jungkook whined into your neck.

 “Not fair.” He complained as you wriggled away from him and sat up, “you’re just so warm and soft.”

 “Sorry, baby, mommy duty calls. Maybe tomorrow night.” You leaned over, giving him one last kiss as Harin called out for you again. “I’m coming, baby girl!”

**************

And that’s it! Moirai is officially over! Thank you so much for coming on this incredible journey with me! I’ll be editing this story behind the scenes in the hopes of sending it out to publishers at some point. There’s a long road ahead, it needs at least 10 edits, haha, but I’m excited to just try. 

As for upcoming stories on Tumblr, my Yoongi story, “Read Between the Lines” is currently in progress and I’m really excited to share it with you!

Chapter 17

Copyright © 2018 by Taeken-My-Heart. All rights reserved.

[kaleidoscopeminds]

I’m going blind from this sweet craving

This came about because I wanted to write some Cake and my brain just went bakery!!! au!!!! Anyway this is very self-indulgent and driven by my own baking obsession. Please enjoy 6k of me talking about cake (literally) and a cheeky bit of side mashton because I couldn’t resist. For the club because everything I do is for the club <3

Warnings: horribly tooth rotting fluff, too many baking metaphors

Title from Cake by the Ocean by DNCE because I think I’m funny

Luke places the last piece of broken Oreo carefully atop the whirl of buttercream and wipes his hands on his apron, reviewing the set of cupcakes in front of him. He knows he’s hypercritical of his own work; he gets called a perfectionist by Michael at any opportunity (and not in a complimentary way), but he still maintains that it’s the only way to be to make anything good.

 He deems this double dozen of the Oreo chocolate as close to perfect as he’s going to manage this morning and slides them next to the strawberries and cream set with mini meringue topping he just finished. He goes to the walk-in refrigerator and pulls out the layer cake that he made before he left yesterday, and then crosses over to dry storage to wheel out the trolley containing the carefully wrapped crates of bread that Ashton, their bread supplier, had dropped off about an hour ago. 

He pulls the trays of croissants, pain au chocolat and pain aux raisins out of the oven deftly, and slides them onto a cooling rack to leave for a couple of minutes, before he can transfer them to the cabinet in the front of the bakery, and checks the clock. It’s 6:40, so he’s just on time to get everything stacked up in the front if he has a bit of help. 

He hears the door at the front of the cafe slam, handle jangling ominously as it closes again and Luke smiles to himself, grabbing the trays of cupcakes and heading out into the front, opening the swing door with his hip.

“Hi Mikey,” Luke calls over as Michael struggles out of his jacket, pushing his glasses up onto his nose and grumbling incoherently.

“I’m not late,” Michael starts, attempting to pull his apron out of his backpack and hang up his jacket on the hook at the same time.

Luke doesn’t say anything, just turns his head to look deliberately at the large clock hanging over the coffee machine behind the counter and raises his eyebrows, smiling slightly.

“Well, barely,” Michael responds defensively. “You’re not the boss of me, Luke Hemmings.”

Luke laughs, “Unfortunately for you, I am. Supervising baker remember?” He opens up the display cabinet and slides the cakes carefully into place.

“Promotions gone to your overly large blonde head already, I see,” Michael says, struggling with his apron ties where they’ve got tangled around his belt.

Luke laughs again and goes over to Michael, untangling him and turning him round to tie his apron for him. “Go and drink your coffee Mikey, I made one for you about 10 minutes ago, should still be hot. I’ll get the rest of the stuff out to the front.”

“I think I’m in love with you,” Michael says genuinely, quickly walking behind the counter and finding the insulated travel mug Luke had filled with a latte earlier that morning. He pulls off the lid and Luke watches him practically inhale it, smiling fondly as he makes his way back into the kitchen.

“Remind me again why I always seem to be making coffee for you when you’re the trained barista?” Luke calls out as he carefully lifts the 4 layered cake onto a stand and carries it back out to the front.

“Ooh that looks fucking good what’s in that?” Michael asks, eyes lighting up at the sight of the cake in Luke’s careful grip. “And it's because you won’t admit it but you’re in love with me too,” He adds, putting his coffee down so he can take the cake off Luke to put on top of the cabinet.

“Chocolate hazelnut with Nutella and praline,” Luke replies with a smile. “Sorry to disappoint you Michael but we would never work, I couldn’t be with someone who hates mornings,” He says solemnly as he returns to the kitchen, lightly checking the pastries to make sure they’re cool enough before tipping them onto another tray.

“You’re going to be on your own for a while then!” Luke hears Michael call, and he laughs as he comes back through the swing door. “No one likes mornings,” Michael continues crabbily, downing the rest of his coffee in one gulp. 

“You know who does like mornings?” Luke asks as he passes over the tray to Michael. “Our lovely bread baker.”

Michael blushes and ducks his head at the mention of Ashton. “Why don’t you ask him out then,” He grumbles, lining the pastries up neatly with the tongs in his hand. 

“Not my type.” Luke wiggles his eyebrows at Michael. “Plus I think he might be more interested in barista types than cake-making types.”

“Shut up Luke,” Michael groans back. “I’ve told you before, he barely knows who I am. I only see the man for about 5 minutes every day when he comes to pick up the crates.”

“And yet every morning. I have to tell him that ‘No Michael’s not here yet, sorry,’” Luke smirks. “Honestly Mikey, you’re missing out not being here at half past five, lots of Ashton content.”

“Yes but that would involve, you know, being here at half past five,” Michael replies sarcastically. “Did Em make any tarts for today?” He asks. 

“Yeah they look great, she’s done a new orange curd one with chocolate pastry which I’m excited to try.” Luke accepts the change of subject and goes back towards the kitchen. “Do you want to come and grab your boyfriend’s bread? Think that’ll be the last of it then.”

Michael glares at Luke and pretends to trip him up as he walks past, then follows him into the back.

“You’re such a dickhead sometimes you know that,” Michael says grumpily, pulling out the loaves of bread and stacking them on the counter.

Luke laughs, it’s too easy to get a rise out of Michael, particularly first thing in the morning and especially when it comes to Ashton. He opens the fridge again and as always sends a silent thank you to the angel that is Em, their evening baker, and the only reason they’re able to produce enough goods for the cafe. It honestly changed his life when his boss decided to employ an extra baker, now he can actually leave when the cafe closes; she picks up anything that Luke doesn’t manage to finish, as well as shaping the pastries to chill overnight and producing a few dozen tarts for the next day. He checks the new orange curd tarts and their customer favourite, the strawberry ones (perfect as always), and slides them off the shelves. 

“You were literally declaring your love for me not 10 minutes ago I believe,” Luke says, checking the fridge to make sure he’s not missed anything. 

He turns around frowning at the lack of a bitchy response, but Michael’s distracted by something in one of the crates. 

“You okay there?” Luke questions.

“Yes,” Michael mumbles, blushing furiously, attempting to pull the crate out of Luke’s view. Luke quickly walks over, interest piqued, and grabs the crate out of Michael’s hands, ignoring his noise of protest. 

In the bottom of the crate there’s one of Michael’s favourite chocolate chip hot cross buns, but instead of a cross on top there’s a carefully shaped ‘M’. Luke laughs delightedly.

“He barely knows who you are, hm?” Luke teases.

“Its..” Michael coughs embarrassed. “It’s probably just a friendly thing.”

Luke rolls his eyes. “Come off it Mikey, that’s the most obvious display of affection in enriched dough form that I’ve ever seen. Where’s my L eh? Nowhere to be seen.” 

“Shut up,” Michael says, but he reaches into the crate and pulls out the bun, wrapping it in some baking paper with utmost care, before walking out into the front of the cafe. 

“You’re meant to be stocking the actual breads!” Luke calls after him, grabbing the tarts and following Michael out. 

Michael just raises his middle finger at him as he gently slides the wrapped bun into his backpack, still blushing. 

Luke laughs and goes to fetch them himself, stacking them in the baskets at the side of the counter, ready to be sold or to be sliced for their toasties.

“Right I’m gonna start on tomorrow’s cake, let me know when you need a hand.” Luke says, turning to Michael who’s absentmindedly filling up the coffee grinder with beans and not looking like he’s heard Luke in the slightest.

“Earth to Michael, come in Michael.” Luke nudges Michael’s arm with his elbow and Michael looks up with a start.

“Oh yeah, sorry. That’s fine,” Michael replies quickly.

“Are you going to be okay out here on your own?” Luke jokes. “You look like you could burn yourself on steam or tip grounds everywhere at any minute.” 

“Yes Luke,” Michael replies testily. “Now go and make some cake and let me do my job, I’ll call you when it gets busy.”

This is the way it works with the two of them in the morning, Luke getting a head start on his batters while Michael deals with the dribs and drabs of the early customers. When it gets to 8am and the little cafe starts getting really busy, Luke will step out to the front to help, and they will work seamlessly together; Michael tamping coffee and steaming milk expertly, whilst Luke takes orders and fills bags with breakfast pastries and muffins. After the rush dies down, Luke will retreat back into the kitchen and start the doughs for the next days’ croissants, until lunch time and he’ll be back out to give Michael a hand with slicing bread and toasting sandwiches. 

He enjoys the buzz of service with Michael, moving round each other with a well practised air and smiling at customers, his favourite bit is getting glimpses of the joy they get from something that he’s created. He’s most comfortable in the kitchen though; in the sweetly calming clouds of icing sugar and the reassuring warmth of the ovens, most at ease on his own with slightly sticky hands, flour perpetually dusting all of his clothes and with a speaker quietly playing his favourite songs into the vanilla scented air.

 X

“Luke!” He hears Michael’s voice float through the door, just as he’s closing the oven door on 3 sandwich pans of fresh raspberry filled sponge. 

“Coming!” He responds, setting his timer for 30 minutes, and pinning it to the top of his apron, before washing his hands and heading out of the door to join Michael. He sees there’s a queue building up and quickly steps behind the counter and smiles at the next customer as Michael pours milk into 3 flat whites in quick succession, a perfect leaf in milk foam appearing in each of them with an artful flick of his wrist.

“Hi, what can I get you?” He smiles at the man who’s just approached the counter.

“A small black Americano to take away, and make it quickly, I’ve already been here 15 minutes and some of us have actual jobs to work you know,” an older man in a suit barks at him, not looking up from his phone. 

“So sorry for the delay Sir, we’re very busy as you can see. Can I take a name for that?” Luke grits his teeth but maintains the smile on his face with some effort.

“It’s Richard,” the man says pompously. “And maybe you should employ more staff if you’re this busy.”

“We’ll take your feedback on board,” Luke replies, his smile coming forced. He writes the man's order, and “Dick” in tiny writing underneath on a cup before turning round and putting it on top of the coffee machine, rolling his eyes at Michael as he does so. Michael smirks in return, pressing his lips together to quell a laugh and slotting the portafilter into place under the grinder.

“That’ll be £2.00 please.”  

“Actually I think I’d like to speak to the manager about the poor service before I pay,” The man says brusquely.

“She’s not here at the moment unfortunately,” Luke responds, not bothering to maintain the smile.

“Well then I’d like to speak to the most senior person here,” The man continues.

“You’re looking at him,” Luke replies coolly, crossing his arms. He’s never been good at dealing with difficult customers, which is why he prefers being in his quiet domain in the kitchen, but he’s dealt with men like this before, all talk but no action when pushed. 

“I think you’re being incredibly rude, you’ve made me wait a ridiculous amount of time for a coffee which is priced extortionately, and now you’re going to be disrespectful to my face,” The man snaps.

“Maybe if people like you just paid and left then nobody would have to wait as long.” A calm voice comes from behind the man.

Luke looks around the rapidly reddening man in front of him to see the source of the voice and sees a man around his age in a suit, with a pair of headphones slung around his neck. Luke tries not to stare but the man is gorgeous, all deep brown eyes the colour of rich dark chocolate ganache, and swooping dark hair, his eyebrows raised and plump lips pursed slightly.

The older man starts spluttering angrily, “And who do you think you are to say something like that to me?”

The younger man just shrugs and continues to look at him calmly, not bothering to elaborate. Luke takes the opportunity to hold out the card machine towards the older man.

“£2.00 please,” He repeats.

The man scowls and taps his card against the machine. 

“You can wait at the end for your drink,” Luke says with a dry smile.

The man grunts but moves away to the side with a glare.

“Thanks,” Luke says quietly, smiling at the younger man as he approaches. 

The man’s lips spread into a genuine smile and Luke thinks they look even better that way if that were possible. “No worries, I think you were handling it fine, it was just an observation.” His voice is warm and deep, reminding Luke of a buttery caramel sauce. 

Luke bites his lip and tries not to blush. “What can I get for you?”

“Flat white, please,” The man says, still smiling at Luke.

“Name?” Luke attempts to hide his face behind the cup he’s just picked up.

“Calum,” He says. “But I think I’ll take that to have in if you don’t mind?” 

“Of course!” Luke says quickly, fumbling his pen slightly as he switches the paper cup for a ceramic one, peeling a sticky note so he can write Calum’s order. “Anything to eat?”

“I’m new here, what do you recommend?” Calum says, cocking his head slightly before looking over the display case. “It all looks amazing.”

Luke definitely blushes this time and clears his throat. “Well the pains au chocolat are quite good I think,” he says nervously.

“Let’s go with that then.” Calum smiles again and Luke thinks his legs might have melted into his shoes but he can’t seem to move them to check if that’s true or not. 

“Or if you wanted something sweeter you could go with one of the lemon muffins, or the strawberry cupc-”

“Luke,” Michael interrupts from behind him. “Please stop flirting with this nice man and get on with serving the other eight nice people we have waiting?” He begs.

If Luke thought he was blushing before it's nothing compared to the heat he feels in his face now. He turns to Michael and throws him daggers.

“The pain au chocolat sounds perfect.” Calum fishes out his wallet. “And your colleague’s right, I’m being a bit of a hypocrite after telling that twat to hurry up aren’t I?” He pushes a hand through his hair and smiles apologetically.

“No, you’re fine it’s no problem at all,” Luke manages to get out. “That’ll be £5.60.”

Luke lets Calum tap his card on the machine and then busies himself with pulling the pastry out and onto a plate which he places on a tray with a napkin, ready for Michael to put the coffee on when it's been made.

“Why don’t you go and sit down, Luke will bring it over in a few minutes if you’re not in too much of a rush?” Michael suggests, pressing the buttons on the coffee machine and sliding a cup underneath to catch the espresso starting to stream out. 

Calum looks bemusedly at Michael for a second before shrugging. “That’d be great, yeah. My office is just round the corner so I’ve got a few minutes. Thanks… Luke.” He says Luke’s name like he’s deciding how he likes the taste of it in his mouth, before quirking his lips once more, and heading to a table in the corner of the cafe.

“What are you doing?” Luke hisses at Michael as he takes the next customer’s order, writing quickly on another cup and fishing change out of the till when the woman hands over a five pound note. “You were just making a point about how busy we were!”

“I’m not telling you to go and sit down with him,” Michael whispers back, only just audible over the sound of the coffee grinder. “But he’s obviously into you, just take his coffee and flirt a bit and then come back and help me!”

Luke takes the most recent batch of completed coffees and distributes them to the waiting customers, smiling slightly when the rude man snatches it off him and storms out on his phone without even checking the name on the cup. He takes another order and passes it to Michael, just as Michael finishes off a flat white with a perfect heart.

“There,” He says in a pleased voice, setting it down next to the pain au chocolat on Calum’s tray. “Now off you go.”

Luke smiles at the woman he’s just served then glares at the tray and at Michael. “What have you put a heart on it for!” He yelps.

“It’s called flirting!” Michael starts steaming another jug of milk. 

“He’s going to think you like him not me!” Luke protests.

“Just go!” Michael hisses, finishing up another coffee and handing it to a waiting customer. “Hi, how are you?” He intercepts the next person waiting at the counter before Luke can do anything about it.

Luke huffs noisily and picks up the tray reluctantly. He wouldn’t go over at all, but Calum did help him with the arsehole customer so the least he can do is actually provide the service he came in for and give the man his coffee. He heads over to where Calum is sat, with his headphones on and jiggling his knee as he types something into his phone. He looks up at the sounds of Luke putting his plate down on the table and smiles gratefully. Luke then sets down the coffee next to the plate and tries to tamp down his instinct to run away immediately. Calum looks at the coffee and then up at Luke, eyes twinkling and a blush in his cheeks. 

“Hope you have a great day!” Luke squeaks out and speed walks back to the counter.

“So?” Michael asks as he fishes out a croissant and places it in a bag, tapping the end of the tongs on the glass.

“Uh, I told him to have a good day then ran away before he could respond,“ Luke mutters, snatching the bag off Michael and handing it off to the customer in front of him. 

“Luke -” Michael starts.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Luke snaps. “Make coffee.”

“Okay boss,” Michael says, barely repressing a giggle. 

Luke spends the next 15 minutes regretting every life choice he’s ever made and resolutely not looking towards the corner Calum is sat in, focusing entirely on the rush of customers. At about 8:45 he sees out the corner of his eye that Calum has stood up, brushing a few crumbs off his knee and patting his pockets. Luke turns around and busies himself with writing the next order on a cup for Michael so that Calum can leave without making eye contact with him. When he deems that it’s been long enough, he turns back to the counter, but standing just off to the side is Calum, scuffing a hand up through the back of his hair and smiling shyly at Luke again.

“Just wanted to say, an inspired choice on the pain au chocolat.” He says. “Send my compliments to the chef,”

“Oh erm, thanks, I will.” Luke stutters out.

“Bye, Luke,” Calum says. “Maybe see you tomorrow, and... Hope you have a great day too.” His face breaks out into a wider smile that reminds Luke of the feeling of getting just the right consistency for macaron batter, or a perfectly smooth finish on a cake or the way good puff pastry flakes into the perfect fragments when you cut through a mille-feuille. Or something.

With that Calum slips his headphones back onto his head and leaves the cafe. 

“You are a useless sack of shit you know that,” Michael scoffs at him.

“Fuck off,” Luke mutters under his breath. “Two words. Ashton. Irwin.” Michael glares back at him.

They get through the last half hour of the rush as normal, Luke pausing only briefly to pull the sponges out of the oven, and he’s twitching more than ever to get back into the safety of his kitchen with some dough in his hands and the comforting whirr of his mixers.

“Okay I’m all good here, you can go,” Michael smiles at him shaking his head.

Luke basically runs through the doors into the back and inhales deeply. God, he needs to get a grip.

X

It continues like this over the next few weeks. Calum will come in most mornings, and sometimes he’s in a rush, smiling apologetically as he orders to take away. Most mornings though, he will appear earlier, choose something to eat on Luke’s recommendation and sits at the table in the corner for 20 minutes before complimenting what he’s eaten on his way out. Luke never speaks to him short of suggesting a new pastry or muffin (and maybe he’s also developing new options everyday just to be able to give Calum something else to praise), but he does spend quite a lot of time looking at Calum sitting in his corner, long fingers wrapping around his mug of coffee and mouth chewing thoughtfully on whatever Luke’s provided him with whilst he jiggles his knee to his music.

Luke swears that sometimes when he chances one of these looks over to him whilst he’s serving a customer, Calum is looking back at him, but his brown eyes always blink away as soon as Luke’s catch them. 

Predictably, Michael is absolutely insufferable about it.

“Loverboy’s looking at you again,” He smirks, checking the most recent order Luke has written for him.

“Shut up, Mikey,” Luke says petulantly. “He is not.”

“He’s always looking at you, Luke,” Michael laughs. “You’re actually driving me mad, please just ask him out or something, you two have the most obvious thing for each other ever. ”

“We do not, he doesn’t like me like that,” Luke protests. “He could be looking at you for all we know, you were the one who put a heart on his flat white,” he adds, sourly.

“You should see his face drop when he comes in here and you’re already in the back,” Michael responds knowingly. “He looks like someone’s pissed in his coffee every time you’re not here to stammer at him about what cakes you’ve made.” 

Luke’s face flames red and he turns his back on Michael deliberately to serve the next customer, as he hears Michael’s suppressed giggles behind him. Look, he knows Michael might have a point and that he could just talk to Calum, but Luke doesn’t really know how, unless he’s talking about pastry or ganache or sponges words just don’t come that easily to him. Especially when faced with someone who looks like Calum does. He sighs and closes his eyes briefly. When he opens them, as if summoned by Luke’s thoughts, there Calum is at the edge of the counter.

“Blueberry muffin was particularly good today,” He says quietly with his usual smile. “Have a good day, Luke.” He gives a small wave and exits the cafe. Luke opens his mouth to say something before he can leave, but nothing comes out so he just closes it again. He kicks the edge of the counter grumpily.

“I’m literally the worst ever,” He groans, spinning round and going through to the kitchen, swinging the door behind him, Michael’s laughs following him through. 

X

Luke is having what he thinks might be the most disastrous day ever. It’s after 5pm, the cafe has just closed and he would normally think about going home soon but Em’s got the day off and he’s not been able to make half of the stuff he needs to for tomorrow. Every ganache he’s attempted has split, he’s burnt one batch of cupcakes and under-cooked another so they’ve sunk in the centre, he’s crystallised his caramel so its unusable, and the chocolate he tempered for the triple chocolate layer cake he has planned has come out mottled and dull. He hates to admit it but the worst part of it was that he didn’t even see Calum this morning, he worked out the front much longer than he normally does in the hope of seeing the other man, but he never turned up. Michael had just raised his eyebrows and given him a knowing grin as he had slumped back into the kitchen at well past half-nine. He sighs at himself as he pushes a hand through his curly hair which he’s had to pull back into a tiny ponytail at the nape of his neck, and tips another set of cakes into the bin. 

He hears a knock on the back door of the kitchen, and the door opening. A curly brown head appears round the door frame. 

“Hi Luke, Is this a bad time?” Ashton says, surveying the disarray before him, bowls and utensils on every surface, half finished cakes and fillings littering the other available spaces. 

Luke huffs out a laugh and wipes his hands on his apron. “No you’re fine come on in, just having one of those days. Sorry for the state of it in here.”

Ashton smiles at him and steps into the kitchen, going to the store where he knows they keep the empty bread crates. “No worries at all mate! Oh I brought my flatmate with me, hope you don’t mind. Calum had the day off today and I roped him into helping me do the pick-ups.”

Luke’s mouth drops open as Calum Calum sidesteps into the kitchen and smiles at Luke embarrassed. “Uh, hi?”

Luke just gapes, spatula limp in one hand.

“Just going out the front for a sec, Cal, just need to check something with Michael!” Ashton calls quickly exiting the room. Luke thinks he spots a smirk on Ashton’s face and his eyes narrow in suspicion. 

“Uh, sorry for barging in on you like this,” Calum starts, standing awkwardly by the door still. “When Ash said he did deliveries for cafes in the local area I didn’t know he meant yours as well.”

“Missed you this morning,” Luke blurts out, then promptly feels himself turn red, again. Jesus Christ where did that come from? He wants to disappear like, immediately and wonders whether he could shut himself in the walk-in without Calum noticing.

A small pleased smile appears on Calum’s face and he blushes slightly. “I thought it might be a bit desperate to also turn up when I’m not even in the office. But I guess I’m here anyway.”

“Well I’m glad,” Luke says quietly, ducking his head and biting his lip. 

Calum’s eyes twinkle at him. “So this is where the magic happens?” He asks, examining his surroundings.

Luke groans. “Don’t look at it like his,” he begs. “I’m usually such an organised worker I promise, I’m just, having a few issues.” 

Calum smiles and comes over to stand next to Luke. Luke inhales sharply and thinks that Calum smells like the freshly baked bread in Ashton’s van but also something else, sweet and spicy, like a hot cinnamon and apple cake or a warm speculoos biscuit just out of the oven. 

“Can I help with anything while I’m here?” He asks softly, reaching out hesitantly and barely grazing Luke’s elbow. Luke focuses on trying to regulate his breaths which is proving almost impossible with Calum standing so close to him, the feeling of his warm hand through his sleeve and the sight of the concerned smile on his face.

“It’ll be okay I think,” he manages to get out breathily. “Thanks though, that’s very sweet of you.” 

“No, I think that’s you,” Calum says quietly, reddening a bit but looking up to meet Luke’s eyes. 

He reaches out and brushes a hand gently through an escaping curl on Luke’s face.

“You’ve got a bit of flour here.” He says quietly, tilting his head to one side and twisting Luke’s hair around his finger briefly. “And here,” Calum continues, skimming his fingers across Luke’s cheekbone. “Here too,” he murmurs, stepping even closer to Luke and dragging his fingertips under Luke’s chin and down the side of his neck, leaving them to rest curling slightly into the collar of Luke’s shirt and looking at Luke in the eyes. Luke’s not sure if he can breathe, lost in the gentle stroke of Calum’s hand and the swirling chocolate of his eyes, feeling the pink blush dusting across his skin, left in the wake of Calum’s touch. His eyes flicker down to Calum’s lips, and he sees them curve into a smile, before he leans forward slightly and catches Luke’s own lips in a soft kiss.

“Hm,” Calum murmurs as he pulls away slightly. “You taste sweet too.” 

Luke honestly thinks this might be the best moment of his life so far, and slides his hand over Calum’s shoulder to pull him back towards him, but just as he does he hears a scuffling sound from outside the swing door into the main cafe.

“Mikey is that you?” Luke asks suspiciously, stepping away from Calum slightly and turning towards the door. Calum steps back too, but loops an arm loosely around Luke’s waist, fingers playing with the ties of his apron. 

“No,” a voice comes through the door.

“Get in here,” Luke says bossily, “You too Ashton I know you’re out there.”

The two of them appear in the doorway, Michael having the good grace to look a little ashamed but Ashton doesn’t even bother, a huge shit eating grin on his face.

“What is going on here?” Luke demands, narrowing his eyes at the pair of them. He’s trying to stay stern but it's proving very difficult when he can feel Calum’s hands skim along his side and him gently nose his shoulder blade as he huffs out a giggle behind him. 

“What I think is going on is that you, Lukey, and dearest Cal Pal might have been having a moment?” Ashton smirks at the two of them.

“I don’t know how you two are involved in this but I know you are and I want you to explain yourselves,” Luke says petulantly. He then looks at Ashton and Michael closer and catches sight of their hands clasped, hidden slightly behind Ashton. 

“What is going on here?!” Luke repeats again, gesturing at their hands. He sees Michael (and Ashton come to think of it) every day, how has he missed this? Probably because he’s been lost in thoughts of Calum for the last 3 weeks he reasons with himself.

Michael blushes to the roots of his hair and pulls away from Ashton slightly but Ashton just tugs him into his body, curving his hand around Michael's hip and pressing a kiss into his neck before releasing him. 

“Well Michael and I started talking the other week, and we found out that by some miracle that the Calum that happened to be coming in everyday to stare at Luke for 20 minutes and leave, was the same Calum who lives in my flat and won’t stop talking about the gorgeous cake maker who works at the cafe round the corner from his office.” Ashton says, laughing, as Calum makes a wounded noise of protest and hides his face in Luke’s shoulder. “And this very Luke that Calum wouldn’t stop talking about happened to be the Luke that I deliver bread to every morning and apparently won’t stop throwing longing glances at Calum from the other side of the counter when he thinks he’s not looking.”

Luke squeaks, and feels Calum giggle behind him, both arms coming round his waist and dropping his chin onto Luke’s shoulder.

“And you two thought you would mastermind a plan then I suppose,” Calum says amusedly. 

“Why aren’t you more annoyed by this,” Luke gripes, turning his head to try to glare at Calum but managing only to brush his nose against his cheek. 

“Because I got what I wanted out of it, regardless of the method,” Calum says sweetly, and Luke blushes again.

“That doesn’t explain.. This!” Luke gestures at Michael and Ashton, he doesn’t know quite why his brain has fixated on this development when he has Calum basically draped along his back but what has happened in the last 10 minutes has been too much for his brain to handle.

“Well we had to come up with a plan so I asked Ashton if he wanted to go for food,” Michael finally pipes up, a small pleased smile on his face.

“You did?” Luke asks in what he acknowledges is probably quite a rude way but this was a turn of events he was not expecting.

“Well maybe watching you pine so disgustingly made me want to do something about it,” Michael retorts, but there’s no heat in it. 

“I knew the hot cross bun would work,” Ashton says solemnly, and Michael jabs him in the ribs with his elbow.

“Okay, I’ve decided that’s enough of the two of you,” Calum says. “Go and scheme elsewhere now please.”

Ashton laughs and salutes them before tugging Michael out of the back door.

“I honestly can’t believe this,” Luke begins, “they think they can just meddle in our business and force us into the same room together and that we’ll just kiss and they can pat themselves on the back for a job well done?” 

Calum is quiet beside him and Luke turns to look at him. “Well?”

Calum smiles at him, that one that makes Luke feel like he’s floating in sweet mallow clouds and tips his head slightly to the side. “I mean I’m sorry Luke but that’s exactly how it happened, so yes I suppose they can.”

Luke begins to make a noise of protest but Calum just grabs the front of his apron and pulls him back towards him. 

“You can carry this on later, but can we stop talking about Michael and Ashton for one second? I was sort of busy before they came in,”  Calum whispers over Luke’s lips.

“Yeah okay,” Luke responds, leaning into Calum and catching his lips back against his own. 

Calum pulls away after a couple of minutes and brushes another rogue curl out of Luke’s face. “So about that help you turned down earlier, I’m not taking no for an answer. I’ll start cleaning some of these things up and you can get on and do what you do best.” Calum leans in and gives him one last peck before heading over to the sink and starting to run the tap.

Luke smiles, slightly dazed and runs his fingers over his lips, thinking Calum tastes pretty sweet himself, a little bit like the warm vanilla air in his kitchen and a lot like home.

[justlightlysedated]

another band au:

Michael gets to Liz’s five minutes before the party is officially supposed to start, and Rosa is walking out of the apartment building, holding the door open with her foot when she spots Michael so that he doesn’t have to be buzzed in.

“Aren’t you late?” He asks, looking down at his watch.

She rolls her eyes at him, and pushes away from the door making him have to scramble forward to stop it from closing.

“We don’t play until the basement is full,” she says. “Liz is still getting ready.”

There is a loud beeping sound, and when Michael turns it’s to see a blonde hanging out of the passenger window of a van.”¡Ándale, Rosita! We don’t want to keep our fans waiting!”

Rosa rolls her eyes again while she bounds down the steps not paying attention to Michael anymore.

“Llamame Rosita otra vez y te voy a arrancar la lengua de la boca,” she says with a smile, sounding extremely sweet while she drags the side of the van open and gets inside.

The blond who has to be either Cameron or Alex, the members of the band that Rosa joined a few months ago, who he knows Liz hasn’t even met yet, like Rosa is keeping them and the band a secret, just flutters her eyelashes in exaggeration. “Oh I love it when you talk dirty to me.”

Rosa slides the door shut, and the van is squealing away before the blonde can even get back in her seat properly.

Michael just shakes his head and walks into the apartment building, heading up the three flights of stairs that will lead him down the hall to Liz’s place.

The door is propped open when he gets there, and he can hear the sounds of salsa coming from the kitchen, and Mr. O’s singing as he moves around.

He walks in without announcing his presence, and Mr. O waves at him from the stove as he makes his way through the living room and down the hall to the room that Liz shares with Rosa.

He doesn’t knock as he enters the room to find Liz lying flat on the bed, trying to button her skinny jeans.

He kicks the door closed and grabs the guitar propped against the desk, before he sits down on the rickety computer chair that rolls back with his weight, hitting the desk.

He settles the guitar on his lap, and is about to tune it when Liz jumps to her feet, bouncing in place a little to stretch the pants out.

“I hate it when Papi washes my jeans,” she says, turning to face him, and then making a low noise.

“Oh no,” she says, and Michael looks up at her to see that she’s eyeing his outfit.

“What?” he asks, feeling a little self conscious.

It’s not like the fact that he’s a foster kid, who aged out in the system, and is right now living in a cheap rundown apartment on the bad side of town, is a big secret. Liz has known him since they were both in preschool. She was there when he lost his mom, and it was because of her and the Ortechos being his emotional support system that the state department decided to put him in homes that were always close by.

He’d worn his best pants, the ones without any holes in them, that were still slightly worn in the knees and the hem and a faded blue plaid shirt over one of his plain white undershirts.

“We’re going to a party Mikey, not the mall!”

Michael makes a face at that. “I’m not going to dress up like Rosa.”

Liz rolls her eyes. “You don’t have to look like Rosa. You just have to dress like you actually go to shows. And right now you look, wholesome and nice.”

Michael makes another face at that.

He lets Liz bully him into her closet, and then lets her bully him out of his clothes and into a pair of skinny jeans that don't clear his ankles since he fits in her jeans since his ass isn't as big as hers, but Liz is the shortest person that he knows. She throws a pair of boots at him, and a tight black shirt, and just rolls her eyes, when he pulls the blue plaid shirt over it.

"Now," she says and turns around holding a brush and a straightener like a weapon. "Your hair."

"No fucking way," Michael says, moving backwards towards the door. "We don't have the time. And anyway, I'd rather die first."

Michael raises a hand to his hair, and pushes the curls falling over his forehead back, only for them to fall back into place.

If Michael's apartment caught fire (which seems likely to happen on a good day) there were two things that he would take with him when he went, his laptop and the bag where he keeps all the products he uses to keep his hair shiny and bouncy and soft.

"One day," she says, brandishing the straightener threateningly. 

"When hell freezes over," he replies.

She's been trying to get him to straighten his hair since she bought the thing since Rosa won't let her play guinea pig, and Michael would do a lot of things for love, but he won't do that.

"Fine," she says, pouting. "How about some eyeliner?"

She turns to her dresser to put the brush and straightener down, and Michael is about to tell her that he doesn't think he trusts her with any pointy object in the near vicinity of his eyes when her phone rings.

Michael grabs it from the desk to see Rosa's name on the display.

He answers, and she doesn't even let him say hello before she's speaking.

"I need a favor," she says, in a rush, sounding a little nervous. "I left my lucky necklace in the bathroom and I need it."

Michael doesn't tease her like he wants to because this is her first show, and he's terrified of speaking in front of his class, he can't imagine how he would feel if he was in her place.

“We got it,” he tells her, and Rosa breathes out in relief.

“Ándale entonces,” she says, sounding like herself again. “The basement is almost full. There might be no space for you.”

Michael rolls his eyes and hangs up the phone.

“Rosa left a necklace in the bathroom that she needs, and we definitely don’t have time for that,” he says, signaling towards the eyeliner with the phone.

Liz just rolls her eyes and reaches for her phone before turning back towards her dresser and dropping the eyeliner.

“Fine,” she says and sighs all over-exaggerated. “I was just trying to help you.”

Michael furrows his brow, “Help me with what?”

Liz gives him a look, “You’ve been moping for weeks, and a little birdie told me that She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is going to be there, so I was thinking that you need to look super hot so she knows exactly what she’s missing out on.”

“I broke up with her, remember?” Michael says, but Liz is walking out of the room, not listening as she keeps talking.

“And if you happened to get laid as a result then, that’s an added bonus. You’ve been really tense.”

“I have not,” Michael protests following after Liz as she ducks into the bathroom.

“You really have, mi’jo,” Mr. O says in passing as he walks down the hall to his room.

Michael tries not to get too embarrassed about the fact that Mr. O knows too much about his sex life thanks to Elizabeth “I tell my Papi everything” Ortecho.

Liz pushes him backwards before he can walk into the bathroom, stuffing the necklace into the back pocket of her jeans.

--they go to the party and michael forgets all about the fact that his ex might be there when he sees the lead singer of the band rosa is in, which is called, project shepherd

--they’re introduced to each other and he becomes obsessed, and can’t stop thinking about him

--the next friday while waiting for Liz at the bus stop so they can walk to his place and study, he sees alex walking into the record store, he barely hesitates to stalk after him, and figures out that alex works there and he buys a CD as an excuse and asks Alex if he would give him some pointers on the guitar, and Alex seems confused with the attention, but he tells Michael that he would love to help him with the guitar, and he only leaves when Liz calls him to ask him where he is

--there is another party, but he sees alex completely seemingly besotted with the singer of this other punk band, and he thinks that they’re dating, and when he asks rosa about the guy, she tells him that he’s Alex’s BF

--he goes upstairs to avoid the party, since he doesn’t really party, and he doesn’t know whose house it is, but he sneaks into a room where no one is having sex, and sits down right by the bed on the scratchy carpet with a sketchpad and a pencil, drawing

--Alex appears and they talk about his drawing, Michael wants to mention the boyfriend, but Alex takes out a joint from his pocket and they smoke, and end up making out until Cameron finds them, she doesn’t look surprised, so Michael assumes that Alex probably makes out with other guys behind his boyfriend’s back all the time, and it leaves him feeling weird

--Michael tries to avoid him, but Alex is suddenly everywhere, and even shows up at Michael’s apartment, and every time, Michael tries to resist him, and Alex manages to catch him off guard, he realizes that he’s in love with him, so he goes off and gets drunk, and ends up having drunk sex with his ex that turns into a whole thing where she keeps calling him and won’t leave him alone

--at the next party, she’s there, and kisses him right in front of Alex, who gets upset and leaves the party, Michael goes after him and they argue, and when Michael throws Forrest in his face, Alex asks him if he really thinks that he’s the type of person who would go around kissing someone behind his boyfriend’s back, and Michael says that he wouldn’t know, since they don’t really know each other, and Alex says and now they never will and leaves him feeling confused

--Michael talks to Rosa who calls him an idiot and says that by BF she meant best friend. “Why didn’t you just say that?” “Why didn’t you just ask for clarification?”

--Michael tries to make it up to Alex, but Alex refuses to even talk to him and even ignores him completely to go off with some other punk guy who looks like he’s the perfect person for Alex, Forrest is the one who tells him that even though Alex is all shy and shit, he would go completely nuts over something over the top

--Michael decides to sing a song for Alex, he even tries to get his hair dyed and straightened and look more like the kind of person that Alex would like, but it comes out bad so he just ends up with a hat on his head and his guitar in his hands and he gives a speech apologizing and Alex is there, but by the time Michael finishes the song, he’s gone

--the next morning, there is a knock on his door and it’s Alex, they talk and when Alex asks him about the bandana tied around his head, Michael shows him, and Alex just drags him to the bathroom and into the shower fully clothed, and washes his hair, the dye running down his arms, and tells Michael that he likes him for him, and they kiss in the shower with the water running down their faces

--ends with another party, Alex announces the last song saying his awesome boyfriend wrote it for him, Michael’s smile can be seen from space

[rcncgaades]

↪ brief introduction to prudence eaton.

BASICS

full name: prudence camryn eaton.  nickname(s): prue, percy ( vastly preferred ). age: twenty-eight. date of birth: 19 october 1992. zodiac sign: libra. place of birth: blackpool, lancashire, england, united kingdom. ethnicity: white. nationality: british. gender: cis female. sexual orientation: homosexual. romantic orientation: homoromantic. religion: she was raised in a protestant household but her family was never all that tied to actively practicing religion and it was never something percy considered all that important to her day-to-day life. as an adult she’s definitely more agnostic leaning than anything. education: bachelors of science in zoology ( university of derby ), masters in biodiversity, evolution & conservation ( university college london ), dphil in zoology ( university of oxford ). occupation: research zoologist & wildlife photographer.  language(s) spoken: english ( primarily ), french, german, russian, polish ( learned to the point of being able to carry on conversations during research projects across continental europe ). accent: she has a thick and immediately apparent northern english accent. she hasn’t lived in the united states for a significant period of time and it doesn’t take anyone more than a word or two to realize percy isn’t american.

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE

face claim: amelia eve. hair color: blonde ( she dyes it brown on occasion but for the most part it’s blonde ). eye color: green.  height: 5′3″. weight: 120 lbs. build: slim, athletic. tattoos: an intricate tattoo of a lion on her back ( here ), a half sleeve flower themed tattoo on her left arm ( here ), a small tattoo on the inside of her right bicep of the sun rising/falling over the ocean inspired by a drawing her baby brother gave her when they were children ( here ). piercings: she has traditional ear piercings in her firsts and seconds, she has a nose ring in her left nostril; she had an eyebrow piercing for a long while but took it out when she began guest lecturing and occasionally teaching in earnest– it’s healed up since then. distinguishing characteristics: her accent, how bright and warm she is, her tattoos & piercings, how smart she is ( or so she’s been told by many, many people after speaking to them for all of five minutes ).

PERSONALITY

label: the adventurer. positive traits: adventurous, articulate, brilliant, charismatic, charming, compassionate, considerate, dedicated, earnest, empathetic, forgiving, genuine, hardworking, intuitive, loyal, passionate, sociable, sweet, warm. negative traits: ambitious, competitive, proud, sarcastic, stubborn. assertive, boisterous, excitable, haughty, obsessive, possessive, silly, superstitious. goals/desires: to make a positive impact on her community, to live a better life as an adult than she did as a child, to spend the rest of her life doing things she loves, to fall happily in love. fears: failure, proving to everyone where she grew up that she’s just as useless as they’d always claimed, disappointing her little brother, never seeing either of her brothers again, becoming anything like the worst parts of her parents. hobbies: spending time with her family, smoking ( both weed and tobacco cigarettes ), cooking, baking, gardening when she has the time to do it and the weather’s right for it, hiking, reading, doing research of almost any kind, spending time with her friends, going out– drinking, dancing, anything that lets her be social, watching nature documentaries, listening to podcasts, playing video games, learning new things, knitting, sex.   quirks: she talks with her hands extensively, she self-corrects out loud if she uses british slang for something rather than the american equivalent, she rarely raises her voice for any reason at all, she can rattle off her favorite animals and fun facts about them at any given moment with no preparation whatsoever, she almost always has some pop song or another stuck in her head and can be heard humming it until she remembers the words. likes: animals of all kinds, mystery novels, nature documentaries, david attenborough, expensive liquor, pot brownies, baked goods of almost every kind, horror movies, music, flowers, being around people, sex, flirting, star wars, most marvel movies, rpg based video games, podcasts, true crime documentaries, her little brother, being a chef, learning anything new, talking to people about things they’re passionate about, her adopted parents & family. dislikes: her older brother, her childhood, people who don’t respect her & the hard work that’s gone into getting her to where she is in life, dark chocolate, milk, toxic people, accidentally killing plants, being alone for long periods of time, boredom, people who pick fights just to pick fights, bigots.

FAMILY

father: simon james ‘sj’ garrick ( biological ). mark william eaton ( adopted ). mother: claire ophelia ashby ( biological ). rose katherine eaton née prescott ( adopted ). sibling(s): jack charles garrick ( older ) & thomas rupert eaton ( younger ). michael andrew eaton ( older, adopted ). pet(s): a bernese mountain dog named jason & an australian cattle dog named piper.  financial status: upper middle class.

BIOGRAPHY

( TW: teenage pregnancy, infidelity, drug use, overdose )

By all accounts— by every metric Percy could use to quantify the fact as an adult— Simon Garrick and Claire Ashby had never been ready to be parents. Was anyone ever really ready to be a parent? It was a question Percy had asked herself constantly as she’d gotten older but it had never been her place to judge– her parents hadn’t done her any favors but for at least some time they had tried to be present and helpful and Percy could never fault them for that. Blackpool– a seaside resort town on the English coast– had been home to Simon and Claire as long as they both could remember but they had remained strangers to one another until they met through a mutual friend when they were seventeen years old. The attraction had been immediate– a spark neither of them were prepared to deal with but allowed to catch and ignite the moment they met, an encounter that resulted in an unplanned pregnancy and a great deal of responsibility neither of them wanted staring them both in the face. Simon dropped out of sixth form promptly to begin working in earnest and provide for the family he certainly hadn’t expected to have but was willing to work to support nonetheless; Claire, after informing her parents, remained in school at her parents’ request though their relationship became strained from that moment on.

When Jack was born the couple was delighted— Simon took to being a father rather quickly and seemed to enjoy it while Claire was an absent mother at best in spite of Simon’s many attempts to help her feel more present in their son’s life. It was no secret to anyone at all that Claire was cheating on Simon with what was rumored to be every eligible man in Blackpool and though Simon was heartbroken by the rumors and the confidence he felt in their truthfulness– he never brought the issue up with Claire– choosing instead to look after their son and try to hold their family together as best he could. It was yet another accident that marked Claire’s second pregnancy when Jack was five and though Simon wasn’t even reasonably confident that the child was his he again prepared himself to be a father as best he possibly could. Percy was born on a cool October morning and from the moment she uttered her first cry her father was devoted to her and for the first time her mother dove headfirst into caring for both of her children with a zeal she’d never demonstrated prior.

Though they were on the poorer side they were happy for a great deal of Percy’s initial childhood and seemed to be primed to be that much happier when Claire found out she was pregnant with her third child when Percy was seven. It was yet more of the same in the Garrick-Ashby household until Tommy was around two and Claire eloped with a family friend and informed Simon plainly that she couldn’t handle being stuck in a dead end town with a dead end life and three children she hadn’t wanted in the first place. Simon was devastated but for the first year or two following Claire’s departure he managed to hold both himself and the family together rather well. Percy– already a brilliant girl intellectually and a spot of sunshine in the world as far as her father was concerned– began to help around the house to take some of the worry away from her father even going so far as to look after her baby brother whenever she wasn’t at school. Jack, who was sixteen, more or less stopped coming home and though Percy was aware he was essentially living with a friend’s across town she considered his absence in her life nothing short of abandonment and even as an adult holds a deep resentment towards him for that fact.

Things for the Garrick family began to unravel slowly— Simon began to spend what money he earned from work on cocaine and other drugs– he was still present and still loving but Percy found herself more and more becoming a parent to Tommy rather than a sister. When she was twelve Simon’s habits escalated to a rather expensive heroin addiction that Percy could hardly process, let alone deal with and though she tried her best to raise her brother and herself it was difficult for a child to raise another child. She was nearly thirteen when she came home from school with Tommy in tow to find their father had overdosed in their kitchen— an overdose that would, even after her frantic call to emergency services, eventually lead to his death. Without extended family to look after them and with Jack’s refusal to take on the responsibility of raising siblings he hardly knew both Percy and Tommy became wards of court.

Percy– already with a reputation for being a brilliant student– threw herself into her studies with that much more zeal as she and Tommy adjusted to life with their first foster family; her IQ was tested and she was placed into progressively more advanced courses until she was taking university classes part-time by the time she entered year eleven. Her foster parents supported her fully and there was frequent talk of adoption for both herself and Tommy— who was easily the most important person in her life bar none. She was very nearly eighteen by the time the adoption paperwork was processed and both she and Tommy were officially members of the Eaton family. Though she was reluctant to leave Tommy behind when she’d been his primary caregiver for so many years prior to being placed with their adoptive family it was the encouragement of her adoptive parents Mark and Rose that finally reassured Percy to the point of feeling comfortable applying to universities about as far away from Blackpool as she could get without leaving the country. Higher education was a world of splendor for Percy who had always been so fiercely curious and sharply intelligent– she finished her undergraduate degree six months earlier than most of his graduating class before moving on to study further.

Animals and zoology had been passions of hers from the moment she visited a zoo for the first time on an outing with her parents when she was still very young. She was fascinated by animals of all sorts and wanted to know everything about how to care for them and preserve the environments they called home. It seemed the logical choice for her to follow her chosen course of study as far as she could-- and when she was twenty-six she walked away from Cambridge with a degree in zoology to her name and several research positions made available to her over the whole of continental Europe and beyond if she chose to take them. Traveling across Europe to do the thing she loved more than anything in the world was a gift Percy had never had any inkling of taking advantage of and she eventually began to give guest lectures at universities in major cities near her work sites as well as develop a passion for photography she found delightful to explore when she was researching in far away countries she’d never imagined even seeing as a child. When her research positions drew closer to their deadlines and the projects she’d been working on were finalized she began to search for another place to call home-- eventually settling on Turtle Bay due largely in part to the fact that Tommy had found his way to the area for college and Percy couldn’t think of anything more delightful than doing work she loved with her little brother at her side-- even if the work is a bit more sporadic than she’d like-- she’s always been able to look on the bright side of things and she doesn’t see that changing.

[spaceskam]

too late to turn back

wheel of crack wednesday on a saturday because days of the week are social constructs

ao3

“Max, he is dangerous.”

“He’s not that dangerous.”

“Dangerous enough!” 

Max rolled his eyes at Isobel’s scolding. There were a lot of things that came to mind whenever he thought about Alex Manes. Dangerous wasn’t one of them.

“I’m honestly kinda proud,” Michael said, grinning as he stabbed a fry into an obscene pile of mayonnaise, “Max Evans, doing something wrong.”

“I’m not doing anything wrong! I’m doing something right,” Max insisted, shifting in his seat as his eyes flickered up to see Alex Manes sitting five tables over. He was sitting alone and completely lost in the book on quantum mechanics. “He has nowhere to go.”

“So you think, wow, let’s hide him in the basement Mom and Isobel won’t find out?” Isobel said, mocking his voice and then scoffing. Max rolled his eyes all over again.

“Please, don’t tell Mom,” Max said. Isobel scoffed.

“Oh, I’m not. Because if I tell her, she’s going to think I’m the one hiding the boy and just blaming it on you,” Isobel said. Max grinned.

“Thank you.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

-

“Are you cold?”

“I’m fine.”

Max watched from the stairs as Alex made himself comfortable. He was sitting on the tiny, back-breaking couch that Max’s dad had bitched about until they got a new one. Alex didn’t seem to mind. His backpack was shoved beneath it for both easy access and easy hiding, and he was simply wearing two jackets and two pairs of pants instead of using a blanket. Too much evidence, he said.

“You’d tell me if you needed anything, right?” Max asked, slowly making his way closer. Alex smirked and looked at him, the strands of hair that had fallen from his haphazard bun making him look all the more daring.

“You know I wouldn’t.”

Max huffed a laugh, “You’re staying in my house, you should know you’re free to ask for anything.”

“I’m staying in your house and you’re feeding me–that’s exactly why I ask for nothing,” Alex pointed out. Max sucked in a slow breath.

Alex had such a way of speaking that was impossible not to listen and absorb each word. He was straight up intoxicating and it had Max confused about a lot of things in life. He recognized the feeling of infatuation, the borderline obsession, the terrifying need to protect. Isobel said it was super strange that he mothered everyone he liked. Was he mothering Alex?

“I brought you some socks,” Max said suddenly when he remembered the pair he’d shoved in his pocket. Alex laughed sweetly and accepted them with painted fingertips.

“Thank you,” he said sincerely. Max sat and stared and tried to think of something else to say. He didn’t quite want to leave, but he didn’t know why he wanted to stay.

“So, uh…” Max said dumbly, looking to Alex and his long dark hair and his pretty eyelashes that brushed his high cheekbones every time he blinked. He was gorgeous. “Goodnight, I guess.”

Alex smiled and nodded. “Goodnight.”

Max climbed back up the stairs and made it all the way until he got into his room before he slammed his head into the wall.

-

“Okay, house is empty.”

Alex appeared from the basement door with a grin. His hair was down and stretching just past his shoulders, messy from sleep. Max tried not to stare too long. This was a problem. He couldn’t have a thing for Alex Manes. Of course, he already knew he did and he already put himself in a position where he had to be around him all the time. Oh, how easy it’d be if he didn’t put himself through hell.

“Here’s a towel,” Max said, stiffly handing out a clean towel to Alex. He took it sleepily and nodded.

“Thanks, man.”

Max stood like an actual creep outside the bathroom door. Well, in his defense, it was right off the side of the kitchen. He had limited places to stand. But, still, he stood only a few feet away and listened to the shower turn on and tried to come up with something to say. 

Alex Manes was dangerous. Or, so he’d been told. Alex had been something of a local myth since elementary school. He got into his first fight in third grade, far before most testosterone-filled violence began. He’d slammed another boy’s head into the wall and got suspended for a week. No one really talked to him after that.

Middle school and high school were also filled with fights, progressively more as they got older. Every time someone mentioned a fight, the response would be “who did Alex beat up this time?”. Parents even started a petition to get him completely kicked out of the school. But the problem was he never got suspended enough to warrant expulsion, he never did enough damage either. Well, at least not in school. 

The night before their first day of freshman year, Alex Manes got arrested for allegedly attacking his father. 

The story went that his dad was simply driving and Alex lost it in a rage, grabbing his hair from where he was in the backseat and using it as leverage to repeatedly punch his dad in the face. Apparently, the charges were dropped because Mr. Manes forgave him. The more Max got to know Alex, the more he questioned what actually happened that night. What actually happened during all those fights Alex got into? Because the Alex Max had gotten to know was sweet and thankful. He had manners and was soft and wore Max’s socks even though their feet were different sizes and the toe area flopped around when he walked from the extra space.

That Alex was cute. That Alex was what caught Max’s eye in the first place. He didn’t like danger. He liked the way Alex would lean over to share his math book in class chew on his black-stained nails quieter than should be humanly possible. He liked the way Alex tucked his hair behind his ears and ignored every authority figure that told him to cut his hair.

Max disliked the handprint-shaped bruises he saw on Alex’s arms. He disliked the fact that he found a bag of extra clothes tucked in the back of the library with Alex’s favorite pen inside. He disliked how defensive Alex got whenever he asked if he was sleeping at school. He disliked the confusion on his face whenever he offered him a safe place to rest his head.

And now Max had spent five minutes staring at a bathroom door and wistfully thinking about the boy on the other side, easily another addition on the ‘maybe I’m not heterosexual list’ that he’d been compiling since junior year. How was he supposed to know who he was jealous of whenever he saw Kyle Valenti and Liz Ortecho kiss in the hall? 

“Max, honey, are you in the shower?” 

Max’s eyes went wide as his long thought process was broken by the sound of his mother’s heels against the floor as she came back inside. Without a second thought, he dove inside the bathroom and closed the door softly behind him.

“Yeah!” he called back.

“Is my phone in there?” she asked. Max’s eyes managed to get even wider whenever he spotted the phone on the charger beside Isobel’s straightener. Oh, for fuck’s sake.

“Uh,” he said, “Yeah.”

“I’m gonna come in real quick, I’m gonna be so late for work,” she rambled with a laugh. Max panicked and his world seemed to slow down as the doorknob began to turn. 

And suddenly he was in the shower, ruining his shoes and staring at a naked Alex Manes.

Alex gave a shocked look as Max clamped his hand over his mouth, but his eyebrows soon came down in realization once he heard the sound of Max’s mother on the other side of the shower curtain. 

“I don’t know how I even made it out the door without it,” his mother laughed. Max closed his eyes and prayed she would leave. He only reopened them because he felt Alex smirk against his palm and he got a few of a very wet, very hot male with his head cocked to the side and a raised eyebrow.

Maybe I’m Not Heterosexual Reason #54: THAT.

“I-I don’t know, Mom, aren’t you gonna be late?” he called. Alex wiggled his eyebrows and Max folded his lips in, trying to keep in any type of reaction. He wanted to smile. He wanted to laugh. He wanted to look.

“Oh, I know you don’t want your mom in the bathroom while you’re taking a shower, I get it, you’re all grown now,” she said wistfully and Max wanted to scream. Was this really the time for a childhood story? “It seems like just yesterday that you wanted me to wash your hair every night so you could play with your little rubber duckies.”

“Mom!” he said, feeling his face flush. Alex smiled wildly against his palm.

“Alright, alright! I’ll see you and Izzy at dinner. Be safe, I love you!”

“Love you too.”

He waited until the door closed to drop his hand from Alex’s mouth. 

“Sorry,” Max said. Alex huffed a breath through his nose, shrugging his shoulders. 

“Shit happens,” he answered. Alex turned around to face the stream and Max couldn’t help himself. He stared at the thick, wet hair and watched as it dripped water down his spine and down to the curve of his ass. God, help him.

And then Alex turned back around with a bottle of body wash in his hands and Max had to snap his eyes up to his face once again to pretend like he didn’t see too much.

“Is this your way of telling me to wash your hair?” Alex asked. Max forced an annoyed face to cover his embarrassment and climbed out of the shower, ignoring the squishy noises his shoes made. His face was burning and his mind was racing and he needed to get away from the really hot, really wet man in his shower before he tried something stupid. Alex’s laughter didn’t help.

“Just shower.”

“Wait, the duckies!”

-

Yes. Alex Manes was dangerous.

It was very, very difficult to reconcile how the man who had been laughing and teasing him on the drive to school that morning about rubber ducks was now being dragged out of the bathroom for slamming someone’s head into the sink hard enough to break it. The guy being dragged out behind him was bleeding, but upright and cursing up a storm. Alex was stoic as always.

“Dangerous!” Isobel hissed in his ear. Max shrugged her off and watched as Alex got hauled away. 

The whole thing bothered him for the rest of the day. And here he thought he was going to be plagued with images of his tan skin all day. Instead, it was Alex’s ‘I don’t give a fuck’ face and his bloody fists. 

Still, Max waited in his car for him after school ended. He stayed until all the other cars that didn’t belong to either football players or cheerleaders who were staying after school for practice were gone. Alex never showed his face. When Max tried to text him, he didn’t get a response. He thought about going home to see if he’d shown up there, but he knew better. He knew he didn’t.

Instead, Max checked the library. Then he checked the bathrooms. He checked the janitor’s closets. He checked everywhere until the only place left was behind the bleachers on the football field. Sure enough, Alex was brooding behind them with his stuff he must’ve broken into Max’s house to retrieve.

“What are you doing?” Max asked softly. Alex just tilted his head in his direction, face cold and hard like it was when he got dragged out of the bathroom. Max longed for the sweet version of him and tried really hard to think of a way to get it back. “I waited for you and you never showed. I got worried.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be out of your hair,” Alex said, a tight smile on his face as he lifted his bag. Max frowned and furrowed his eyebrows.

“What?”

“Look, I know you don’t want me in your house, so I’m leaving so you don’t have to let your pity force you to let me stay,” he said. Max shoved his hands in his pockets and kicked the grass. What was he supposed to say? How did he properly word how much he enjoyed his presence without sounding super fucking creepy?

“I… I don’t want you to stay because I pity you. I don’t pity you,” Max said carefully, licking his lips, “I want you to stay because I like you.” Alex stayed silent. “Listen, I don’t know what happened today and I don’t know what happened with your dad or why you don’t have a place to go to, but I want to give you a place. I don’t want anything from you and I’m not doing it to make myself feel better, I just… I don’t know, you’re my friend. Friends help each other out.”

“You consider me your friend?” Alex asked. Max looked at him sheepishly and shrugged.

“I dunno, yeah,” he fumbled. Alex huffed a laugh and shook his head. Max slowly went to sit down. “I’m not scared of you like everyone else is.”

“You probably should be,” Alex said cryptically. Max picked at the grass.

“Well, I’m not.”

They stayed silent for a while. A long while. Long enough that football practice ended and the coach was probably questioning why his car was still parked outside. And if he wasn’t, then Isobel sure as hell was. But he had no intention of leaving unless Alex left with him.

Eventually, Alex spoke.

“He called me a fag,” he admitted. Max looked up at him with furrowed eyebrows. “And he, like, did a stupid walk that I’m assuming was supposed to be gay and waved his arm around and shit. I told him to fuck off, but he shoved me and told me that I couldn’t talk to him like that. So I smashed his head into the sink.” Alex finished the story with a noncommittal shrug, frowning at the grass as he ripped it up like it personally wronged him.

“Seriously?” Max asked dumbly. Alex huffed and looked up at him.

“What are you surprised about?” he wondered. Max blinked and tried to decide what exactly he wanted to answer with. This one little detail about this one fight seemed to make the previous ones make sense. The first fight started whenever the boys in their class decided gay was the funniest insult. They got worse the more feminine Alex portrayed himself. Or, whatever it was called. Max never thought of the long hair or the painted nails or the jewelry Alex wore as feminine‒he simply saw them as Alex.

“He seriously fucked with you after you have a reputation of beating the shit out of people like him?” Max decided. It was the right answer; Alex smiled.

“Bigots don’t learn their lessons from other people very well,” he said. Max grunted in response, shaking his head.

“Dumbasses. Maybe they all just think they’re stronger than the last one and so they fight you on purpose to see if they can be the winner this time. Alas, you are the strongest padawan,” Max said. Alex’s smile got wider and he laughed, big and genuine, and threw some grass at Max. “I’m just saying!”

“I don’t know, man, I don’t know why they do it. And I know I shouldn’t feed into it by fighting, but I just get so pissed, you know?” Alex said. Max hummed and nodded. He understood sort of. He wasn’t a fighter, but, from what he knew that Alex didn’t tell him, he probably only knew how to be violent whenever his feelings got hurt. Part of Max, the mothering part, wanted to teach him a different way.

“I’m sorry they say that stuff about you,” Max said, “Are you suspended?” 

Alex shrugged one shoulder. “Just one day. I told Mr. Johnson that Joel hit me first and I simply pushed him off and he slipped into the sink. Joel went with it.”

“Why’d he go with it?” Max asked, furrowing his eyebrows. Alex smirked something sinister.

“I don’t know,” he laughed, “But he did.”

They sat there in the grass for a little while longer, talking about nothing. It was easier than the nights he snuck down to the basement. Max didn’t find himself fumbling for words. It was just him and this boy he really, really liked.

“Would it bother you… if they were making fun of me for the truth?” Alex asked well after the sun went down. Max’s phone had gone off multiple times, but he’d ignored it. He would take a week full of yelling if it meant taking this moment with Alex.

“No,” Max answered honestly, “Well, it would bother me that people are fucking with you for something you can’t help.”

Alex let out a long breath and laid back in the grass. Max smiled at him and nudged his thigh with his foot. When Alex's dark eyes flickered up to him, Max gulped and laid beside him. They stared at each other and looked away and looked back and looked away. Max searched his mind for the words to describe it. This feeling. This… not straightness.

He couldn’t find one.

“I like this,” Alex said, turning his head towards the sky that he could see through the bleachers.

“What?” Max asked. His chest was full of something he couldn’t name.

“I don’t know. This, us,” Alex breathed. It was the kind of honesty that Max would choke on. Alex offered it easily. It was mind-numbing.

So, instead of trying to make his mind work, he propped himself up on his elbow. Max looked down at Alex and tried to find his words again. What was this? What did one call this? This all-encompassing thing. Alex Manes and his long hair and his dark eyes and his nice lips and Max’s desire to touch.

And so he did.

Maybe it was stupid, maybe it was primal, maybe Alex would kill him once he was done, but he reached out and touched his thumb to those lips anyways. Alex turned to him, eyes wide with a different type of shock than usual and then Max watched as it clicked.

Slowly, Alex lifted onto his elbow as well. Max held his breath as Alex’s tongue reached for his thumb. Then he wasn’t holding his breath. He just couldn’t fucking breathe.

Alex moved closer, eyes flickering from Max’s to his lips and then back. He was breathing. At least one of them was. So Max leaned in entirely and tried to remember what breathing felt like.

Kissing Alex Manes was not what he expected. He’d expected it to be rough, dangerous, quick. He didn’t expect it to be so slow. Alex dragged out each agonizing second, single-handedly putting Max’s heart in his throat with the sweet taste of his tongue.

Alex Manes kissed with purpose. It felt like he’d been planning this and had full intention to make it worth the wait. And it so, so fucking was.

“Wait,” Alex said after a few minutes of painfully slow kisses, gently pulling away. Max followed in a desperate attempt to make it last but settled for falling helplessly onto Alex’s chest as he laid back down.

Fuck.

Alex let out a breathy little laugh and patted his shoulder, gently rubbing his back which made it a million times harder for Max to get his mind straight. How was he ever supposed to think about anything ever again after that? 

“Why’d you stop?” Max asked after he managed to keep his mind back down to earth just enough to question why the hell that stopped. He wanted that over and over and over. He didn’t want it all.

“You are one of the most painfully heterosexual people I’ve ever met in my life, Max Evans,” Alex told him, “I’m not sure why you just kissed me, but I have a feeling you’ll regret it once you’re in a better state of mind. I don’t want you regretting anything.”

Max furrowed his eyebrows and lifted his head to look up at Alex. He thought Max was straight. Granted, he didn’t have any outwardly gay or even bisexual things about him. Of all the billions of stereotypes they had for queer people, Max didn’t fit any of them.

He just fit the one box that was the only real requirement.

“I’m into you,” Max said, “I don’t… I don’t know what I am. I don’t know if I’m gay or bisexual or pansexual or… I don’t know, none of them feel right to me. All I know is that I’m into you and I’ve… been interested in other guys before. Just… no one real, I guess. I sound stupid.”

“No,” Alex said quickly, the softest, sweetest smile on his face that Max had ever seen. He felt blessed that it was for him. “No, you don’t sound stupid. You sound exactly right.”

Max swallowed harshly and kept staring until Alex moved in and kissed him again. Long fingers went into his hair and Max settled into Alex’s side. And they kissed. And kissed. And kissed. 

“Let’s go home.”

-

”Fuck me.”

Max grinned helplessly as he looked up to Alex. He had pinched himself twice trying to wake up from this insane dream, but it never worked and he was still on his knees in front of Alex Manes. They had made it up to his bedroom where Alex was bracing himself against his dresser. 

Technically, Max was grounded for not telling anyone where he disappeared to for hours and then ignoring everyone and then, when he finally did get home, refused to say where he was. He couldn’t exactly say he’d been making out with the delinquent that he was hiding in the basement, so he said nothing and took the disappointed look from his mother.

“You are way too good at that for a guy who claims to have no prior experience,” Alex breathed. Max smiled even wider and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He stood back on his feet and tried not to think too much about the way Alex looked up at him with his flushed cheeks. 

“I don’t, but you’re a really good motivator to get good at it,” Max said and tried not to sound so fucking childish. He couldn’t help it. He’d never done anything with anyone of any gender past kissing until he’d gotten with Alex a week ago. He found it hard to control himself.

“Shut up,” Alex laughed, hand reaching up to pull him down for a kiss. Max took a deep breath as their lips pressed together. It was still too good. “Hey, can I ask a question?”

“Anything,” Max breathed. Alex snorted and scratched behind his ear like Max was a dog. And perhaps he was because he loved it.

“How much longer until I need to be out of the basement?” Alex asked. That very quickly sobered Max up and he pulled away with furrowed eyebrows.

“What do you mean? Why would you need to go?” he wondered. Alex gave him a smile that said he was naive. 

“We both know the longer I stay, the more likely it is that we’re going to get caught. You know damn well that your mom won’t let us see each other if she finds out you’ve been sneaking me in,” Alex said. Max grunted unhappily and let his forehead fall onto Alex’s.

“I don’t want you to go,” he whined. Alex smiled softly and combed through his hair.

“I know, but we’re running on borrowed time.”

“Where would you go? If you stopped staying here, where are you gonna stay?” Max asked, fingers gripping at Alex’s sides. Alex shook his head.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll figure it out.”

“No, I am gonna worry about it. I don’t want you sleeping on a bench or some shit. I want you to be safe,” Max said. Alex didn’t answer. They stared at each other for a moment and then Max decided to ask something he knew he shouldn’t. “Could… Could you maybe go home?”

Alex took a whole step away and shook his head. “Not an option.”

“Why?” Max asked. He knew he was stepping into uncharted territory, but he didn’t want to lose Alex. He’d just gotten a taste of something good. “I mean, maybe you could talk it out with your dad or something. I’m sure he wants you back home.”

Alex was staring at him with that hardened face, the one that was never used on Max. It made him feel small. He looked down towards the floor.

“Not. An. Option.” 

“I’m sorry,” Max murmured, “I just…”

They were silent for another beat until Alex moved back into his space and placed a hand on his cheek. They locked eyes and Max wanted even more for them to work it out somehow.

“My dad isn’t the type of guy to talk it out with, okay?” Alex said, “I’ll figure it out.”

Reluctantly, Max nodded.

“Okay.”

-

Isobel mouthed ‘I’m sorry’ over her mother’s shoulder. They were caught.

Anne Evans stood with her arms crossed and her eyebrows raised, Alex’s extra back just dumped unceremoniously at her feet. Max looked over to Alex who had his hardened face on. Thankfully, they hadn’t been kissing whenever they came into the room. That would’ve added an extra layer of shit. 

“Care to explain?” she said cooly. Max grimaced and closed his eyes.

Except then he realized that he couldn’t do that. He genuinely had explaining to do. Maybe, just maybe, he could convince his mom to let Alex stay.

“He has nowhere to go,” Max started, doing his best puppy eyes, “I was doing a good thing, giving him a place to stay, right? Like, you wouldn’t just let a seventeen-year-old be on the street.” Max looked over to Alex and tried to make sure that he wasn’t offending him. There wasn’t really a good, clean way to do this.

“And you didn’t think to ask me?” Anne demanded. Max bowed his head. He really hadn’t. He just assumed the answer was no. “Maybe if you would’ve asked we could’ve figured it out. But instead, you acted like there was something to hide, which makes me think that there is. This is unlike you. You’ve always asked me first, but now you’re being secretive and hiding people in my house without asking. I cannot begin to articulate the absolute disrespect you showed me, Max. I didn’t expect this from you.”

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Evans, this is my fault,” Alex jumped in, “I didn’t have to stay here, but I did. I’m sorry. I’ll go.”

“I think that’s a good idea,” Anne said. Max’s eyes widened and he instinctively looked to Alex.

“No!” Alex gave him a look that said 'not now’, but this wasn’t okay. “You have nowhere to stay, Alex!”

“It’s okay,” Alex said, turning to his mother once more, “I’m sorry.”

Alex left swiftly and then it was just Anne Evans and her two children. Isobel was looking awkward and out of place which was uncharacteristic and Max was glaring at his mother which was equally as uncharacteristic.

“I don’t know why you’re looking at me like that. I know boys like him, don’t think I don’t. I don’t want that kind of person in my house,” Anne said. Max scoffed, rage boiling in him. She didn’t know anything.

“Alex isn’t like whatever you’re thinking. He’s nice and smart and he doesn’t do anything bad. He really just doesn’t have a place to go home to and it’s not fair that he’s being punished for it!” Max argued. Anne sighed slowly and pinched the bridge of her nose.

“If he was really nice and smart, he would’ve asked for permission to stay under my room.”

“He doesn’t know how to ask for things like that! He assumes the answer is no!” Max spat, shaking his head, “I thought you of all people would be more sympathetic to him.”

His mother gave him a look that looked like Isobel and it became that much more difficult to see that they weren’t actually related. But Max felt it more than ever.

“Why in the world would you think that I would let a boy with violent tendencies into my house?” Anne asked. Max scoffed.

“Because you took in me and Isobel whenever you had no idea what we were capable of,” Max said. That seemed to shut her up. “Guess I was wrong.”

Max stalked up to his room and was already typing a text to Alex.

-

It took three days before Max finally figured out what ended up happening to Alex. He’d been rudely left in the dark from all sides whenever his mom grounded him and no one had been answering his texts. He wasn’t sure if he was just being ignored or if his service had been turned off.

Turns out, people were just figuring out all the gritty details before telling him.

“So you’re staying with Michael?” Max asked, eyebrows furrowed as looked at Alex. He was allowed to come over, they just weren’t allowed upstairs or in the basement. He had a feeling his mother knew it was more than they were letting on and she just wasn’t going to force him to say it. She would just treat it like he already had. He couldn’t say it was the worst-case scenario.

“Yeah,” Alex said with a soft laugh, “Turns out two people from fucked up families get along well.”

“I don’t even understand,” Max said, rubbing his head that seemed to ache with his confusion. Alex smiled at him and gave a small laugh.

“Well, your mom basically tracked me down that night and told me to get in her car. I thought she was gonna kill me, not gonna lie,” Alex admitted, “But she brought me out to Foster’s Ranch. I can live with them as long as I work on the ranch. It’s not so bad; Michael’s a good teacher. Besides, I think it’ll be good for me to get some of my aggression out by doing manual labor.”

Max licked his lips and nodded slowly. He wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about Michael and Alex spending so much alone time together on acres of land, but he couldn’t say anything. Alex had a safe place to stay. That was worth whatever the future might bring.

“And we can still see each other,” Max said. Alex nodded.

“And we can still see each other.”

They stared for a moment before Max looked around the room quickly and then leaned in for a kiss. Alex kept it short, but still accepted it willingly. 

“Thank you,” Alex whispered, “For caring about me.”

Max didn’t know how to explain that Alex didn’t know the half of it. So, instead, he took his hand in his own and tried to think of the positives. Alex was going to be okay. He was going to be okay.

“No problem.”

[cristinablackthornkingson]

Arc of a Scythe Short Story #1 part 2.

Munira’s hand flies up to cover her mouth, when she sees the baby. She had not been expecting Michael to show her the baby, she wasn’t even expecting him to tell her that the baby is here, last she had heard Marie was a week overdue and it didn’t look like the baby was coming any time soon. 

“You sly devil you!” Munira exclaims, when she finally recovers from the shock and composes herself. “How long have you been keeping this a secret? When was she born?” 

“Only for a day, Marie went into labor on the night of the 20th, and Mia was born at 9:23 that morning. We decided to keep the news of her birth to ourselves just for a day, while we settled into life with her.” Michael explains with a chuckle, he knew Munira would be shocked, he’s actually surprised she hasn’t yelled at him for keeping this a secret, Munira hates when Michael keeps secrets from her.

“Well congratulations! I’m going to book my flights to come visit, the minute I get off this call! How is Marie?” Munira asks. Even in this day and age, with pain killing and healing naniets, recovering from pregnancy and birth can’t be easy. 

“She’s doing very well, she’s mostly just tired now, like she was in the early stages of her pregnancy, but she’s getting plenty of rest, Mia likes to keep me awake, but she seems to know her mother needs all the rest she can get.” Michael says in an amused tone, looking at Mia, who is fixated on Munira’s image, on the computer. She hasn’t slept much today, meaning Michael hasn’t had a chance to catch up on sleep, but he doesn’t mind, he would gladly stay awake for the rest of his life, for his daughter. 

“She’s clever, like her Aunty Munira, right Mia? We leave your mom alone, but drive your dad nuts.” Munira laughs. She doesn’t know Marie as well as she knows Michael, and therefore doesn’t feel comfortable teasing her, as she teases and messes with Michael. 

“How I’m going to put up with you and Rowan at the same time, I just don’t know. If he weren’t hopelessly in love with Citra, I would say you two would make a good couple.” Michael says with a smile, only half teasing. 

“He’s not my type, men aren’t my type at all.” Munira says with a shrug. 

“I know, I’ve seen you flirt with that Nimbus Agent, Lorianna, you’re terrible at it.” Michael replies. Munira scoffs and says

“That’s rich coming from you Michael, you didn’t cop on to the fact that Marie was in love with you, until she told you, she came into your room at night and you thought she was trying to kill you, and you kept that journal entry about that night, as some weird macabre love note, you have no room to talk about being terrible at flirting, it’s a miracle Mia exists with how bad you are at flirting.” Munira laughs. She may be bad at flirting, but at least she’s never assumed Lorianna’s flirtations meant she wanted to kill her.

“I’m an old man of course I don’t know anything about flirting, anyway shouldn’t you be at work?” Michael asks, shifting Mia in his arms as she begins to fuss. 

“it’s my day off, but I do have other work to do, and I’m sure you’re busy with Mia.” Munira says, pushing her glasses up her nose. “I’ll let you know when I’ve booked my flights.” Michael nods, trying to calm a fussy Mia while he says goodbye to Munira. 

A few seconds later, they end the call, and as if she knows she now has her dad’s full attention, Mia starts squawking and crying loudly. Michael glances at the time on the computer, and sees it’s 5 minutes past Mia’s usual feeding time.

“Now where do you get that impatience from, young miss? Neither your mother or I are very impatient, though your mom wasn’t as patient as she is now, when I first met her.” Michael quietly says, as he makes his way over to the fridge to get a bottle for Mia and heat it up in the microwave. “And she wasn’t very patient when we started trying for you, when she didn’t get pregnant the first month, she thought it would never happen.” He adds with a smile, remembering how Marie would obsessively take pregnancy tests when they were trying, sometimes as soon as the morning after, then getting flustered when the test came up negative. Michael hadn’t seen her so on edge and impatient since she was a teenager, starting her Scythe training. 

“Telling our daughter embarrassing stories about me already?” He hears Marie ask in an amused tone. He turns to see her standing by the window in the living room, her long brown hair in it’s usual braid over her shoulder and her lavender bathrobe thrown on over an old jumper and sweat pants. To Michael, she looks as radiant as ever.

“Well she’s going to be hearing plenty of embarrassing stories about me, from Munira soon, I figured it was only fair she know I’m not the only embarrassing one in the family.” Michael jokingly says, as Marie walks over and presses a kiss to his cheek before bending and kissing Mia’s forehead. 

“I heard you video calling Munira and introducing her to Mia, have you told Rowan and Citra about her yet?” Marie asks, as Michael takes Mia’s bottle from the microwave. 

“Not yet, I haven’t spoken to them in a few days, but we should tell them soon, they won’t be pleased if we keep it a secret much longer.” 

“We should text them tonight, take a picture of Mia and write out one of those old, mortal-aged birth announcements, I always liked the idea of a birth announcement, and if there’s anyone worth of one, it’s the daughter of two Scythes, isn’t that right my beautiful Mia?” Marie coos, stroking Mia’s dark hair. Michael chuckles and puts an arm around her waist, pressing a kiss to her head. 

“Whatever makes you happy, my dear Marie, whatever makes you happy.” 

Half an hour later, once Mia has finished her bottle and is settled and content, Marie spreads out a colorful floral print blanket that Citra had sent for Mia, while Marie was still pregnant, and places Mia on her back on it, after dressing her in the most adorable outfit she could find. A white vest with gold lettering that reads ‘Hello World’, paired with baby pink trousers, with gold poka-dots and a little gold satin belt, tied all together with a baby pink headband.

“Does she really need the headband?” Michael asks in an amused tone, as Marie pulls the camera up on her phone. Though Mia looks absolutely adorable in her outfit, it is a bit over the top, not surprising seeing that Rowan sent it. 

“Of course, it ties the whole outfit together!” Marie defends her choice in accessories for their daughter. 

“It’s almost bigger than her.” Michael laughs. Marie shoots him a mock glare.

“Oh hush, you have no sense in fashion, not surprising seeing as you chose the most boring color robes.” She jokes. 

“Ivory isn’t boring!” Michael says in a defensive tone. “It’s no more boring than lavender!” Marie smiles and shakes her head. 

“Whatever you say Michael, whatever you say.” 

10 minutes later the mini photo shoot is done, and Mia has lost her headband and thrown up on her top, so while Marie typed out the birth announcement to send to Citra and Rowan, Michael changes Mia into a simple white onsie.(Ivory to be exact) 

“There, all better.” He softly says, picking Mia up and kissing her cheek. “Ivory suits you Mia, your mom doesn’t know what she’s talking about when she says ivory is boring, it’s definitely not bring on you, you sweet little thing. Come on, let’s go see how mommy’s getting on.” 

15 minutes later, Michael is sitting on the sofa with Mia curled up on his chest, fast asleep, one of his hands resting protectively on her back and the other holding a book, a fictional novel Citra had brought him last time she visited.

“Done, what do you think?” Marie’s voice pulls Michael from the fictional world of his book. She hands him her phone and he takes everything on screen, in.

Displayed on the screen is a picture of Mia, on her blanket, in the outfit Michael had just changed her out of. The photo was taken from above and is a beautiful shot of Mia.

At the top of the photo, Mia’s full name (Mia Willow Wilson) is written out in bold, curling letters. Beside it, is her date and time of birth. (October 20th, 9′23 A.M., Year of The Lynx) and under that, is her birth weight and length. (6lbs 4oz, 24 inches) Then at the bottom of the photo, is a short and simple message. 

‘We are so thrilled to welcome our sweet baby girl. -Marie and Michael Wilson’ 

“It’s perfect, Marie.” Michael says, handing the phone back to her and smiling at her. “I didn’t know you had a flare for photography and photography editing.” He adds.

“Oh I took a few months of photography in high school, this is the first time I’ve used those skills in over 200 years, I’m surprised I remember them.” Marie says in an absent tone, as she sends the message to Citra and Rowan.

"At least we won’t have to pay for Mia’s newborn photo shoot, that’s what normal parents do, isn’t it? Have a photo shoot for their baby?” Michael asks, not knowing much about being a parent, other than the fact that he loves Mia so much it hurts.  

“I think so. I was thinking of taking her to a local playgroup for babies, it’s a good chance for parents to get to socialize and know each other and it’s very beneficial for the babies, they teach them how to use their hands to sign for things like bottles, so we don’t have to try and decipher their cries all the time. It’s also very good stimulation for them and helps develop their minds.” Marie says in a hurried tone of fascination, enthralled by the whole new world of parenthood.  

Before Michael can answer, Marie’s phone starts buzzing with a video call request, from Citra. She smiles and quickly answers the call, angling the phone so she, Michael and Mia are all in shot. When she answers the call, she sees Citra sitting at kitchen table, her curly dark hair loose around her shoulders, and Rowan at her side, straining to see the small screen of the phone. When he sees Marie and Michael, his face lights up and he waves at them. 

“Hi Scythe Faraday, Hi Scythe Curie!” He calls in an enthusiastic tone. Rowan (like Citra and Munira) does usually call them Marie and Michael, but when he’s being teasing and playful he uses their former titles. 

“Hello Rowan.” Michael says with a grin. 

“I miss you!” Rowan exclaims, ducking out of view for a second as Citra attempts to hit him in the arm. “Ow, Scythe Faraday, Citra’s abusing me!” 

“I’ll glean you if you don’t stop messing like a kid, Damisch, I want to talk to Michael and Marie.” Citra threatens, glaring at him. 

“Okay okay, I’ll be good!” Rowan exclaims, holding his hands up in surrender. 

“It’s good to see you dear, and you Rowan, how are you both keeping?” Marie asks. 

“Oh we’re fine, this call isn’t about us, it’s about you and your adorable baby! Congratulations!” Citra exclaims. 

“I can’t wait to meet her and be her favorite Uncle!” Rowan interjects. 

“You’re her only Uncle, you dumbass, stop being so annoying or go away.” Citra says, lightly shoving him away. “As I was saying, she is the cutest little thing I have ever seen! We’re coming to visit as soon as possible!” She continues, turning her attention back to the call. 

“We can’t wait to see you, Munira is coming soon too, you 3 should come at the same time, we have something we want to ask you three when you’re altogether.” Marie says.

“What is it?” Citra asks in an eager tone. 

“We’ll tell you all together, Munira is coming next Wednesday, for two weeks, how about you two come down at the same time?” Michael asks. 

“Alright, sounds good.” Citra says, while Rowan nods in agreement. 

One week later, Munira, Rowan and Citra arrive, only an hour apart. Munira arrived first, so therefore had the luxury of meeting and holding Mia first. She, Rowan and Citra have decided among themselves that they each get to hold for a 15 minute period, until Mia either gets fed up with them, needs a new diaper, or gets hungry and needs a bottle. Right now, Munira is holding Mia, gently rocking her back and forth, while Rowan and Citra’s eyes are glued to the timer counting down the 15 minutes, on Citra’s phone. 

“She is so calm and peaceful, and beautiful, she musn’t take after you at all, Michael.” Munira teases, sharing a grin with her old friend. 

“Well Munira, we’re in agreement that she gets her beauty from her mother.” He says, linking his hand with Marie’s. 

“Hey, when we called you a week ago, you said you wanted to ask the three of us something when we came down here, what is it?” Rowan asks, looking up from the timer. 

“Oh, oh that. Well, as I’m sure you know, back in the mortal days when they believed in God, babies were given Godparents, who would have an important role in their lives and teach them about religion and God, in the later days of mortality, it became more about playing an important role in the child’s life, and less so about religion and God. 

When the Thunderhead gained sentience, and it was proved that God did not exist, Guide Parents replaced Godparents, naming ceremonies replaced baptisms. 

Michael and I have decided that we’d like Mia to have a naming ceremony, and we would like her to have Guide Parents, people who will promise to be there for her and help her through life. Ordinarily two people are chosen as Guide Parents, but you can choose however many you please, and Michael and I have chosen three. 

So, Citra, Munira, we would be honored if you would agree to be Mia’s Guide Mothers, and Rowan we would love it, if you agreed to be Mia’s Guide Father.”  There is a brief silence, following Marie’s speech, though it only lasts a few seconds, and Citra is the one to break it. She jumps up from her spot on the floor next to Rowan, and embraces Marie and Michael tightly, tears of joy spilling down her cheeks. 

“Of course I will, I can’t believe you would ask me, I’m honored.” She softly says, wiping at her tears, as Marie kisses her forehead and Michael squeezes her hand. 

“Of course we asked you dear, you’re like a daughter to us, we love you just as much as we love Mia, and we both know you will be a very important person in her life.” Marie softly says. 

“I-I am honored too, and of course I will accept, thank you so much for asking me.” Munira quietly says, holding back her own tears of joy. She had never been given such an important role in all her life, to be a baby’s Guide Parent was no small thing, but she cannot wait to teach little Mia all she knows, and help her grow into an amazing person.

“i... I don’t know what to say, other than thank you, and of course I accept.” Rowan says. “And also, it’s my turn to hold the baby, give her over, Munira!” He demands, holding his arms out for the baby. Munira roles her eyes and passes Mia to Rowan. 

“Boys, so annoying.” She quietly says.

“Hi Mia, as long as you don’t spit up on me, I think you and I are going to be good friends!” Rowan says, letting Mia grip onto his finger. He has plenty of experience with babies, he has tons of younger brothers and sister (as well as older) and often helped out with them when they were little, which he always liked, except for when they would spit up on him, and today he’s wearing his favorite shirt and he doesn’t feel like waiting in line to buy a new one, when he gets home.

Later that night, when Munira, Rowan and Citra are back in their hotel (Michael and Marie only have one spare room, which is currently filled with baby paraphernalia) Michael and Marie place a fussy Mia on a pillow in the middle of the bed, and lie on either side of her, lacing their hands across her little stomach, once she has calmed. 

“I can’t believe we made her.” Marie quietly says, softly tracing Mia’s little cheek. These last two weeks have been the most surreal of her life, even more surreal then when she became a Scythe, but also the best, being a mother is without a doubt the best thing she has done in her long life, and she has never loved someone like she loves Mia. 

“Neither can I, I mean I’m use to taking life, not making it, I can’t believe how perfect she is.” Michael softly says, stroking Mia’s dark curls. All throughout Marie’s pregnancy, Michael was secretly terrified that because of the fact he use to be a Scythe and take lives, something horrific would happen to his child, or Marie. No matter what the doctors and midwives said through the pregnancy, he never fully believed that Mia was perfect and healthy, until she was born.

“I’m scared that The Scythedom is going to find out we’re still alive, and take Mia from us.” Marie confesses in a tight tone. Ever since she got pregnant, she’s had nightmares that she and Michael are found out by The Scythedom, and punished by having their child taken from them. She would rather die than live without Mia. 

“Oh Marie, that won’t happen, there’s hardly any chance The Scythedom will find out we’re still alive and even if they did, they could not take Mia from us, I would never ever let that happen.” Michael gently says, reaching out and brushing away Marie’s tears. Marie takes a shuddering breath and nods. 

“I-I know, I think it’s my hormones still settling back in, and new mom anxieties, maybe I should have my naniets adjusted.” She says. “I love you both, so much.” she leans over and kisses Michael, before pressing a kiss to Mia’s cheek. 

“Marie, I swear to you I will never let anything separate us ever again nor I will let anything or anyone separate us from our daughter.” Michael firmly says. He thought he had felt protective of Citra, Rowan and Munira, but he has never felt as protective over someone as he does Mia. 

Marie nods and moves closer to Michael, placing her hand over his.

“I know.” She softly says. “We’re a family now, and nothing will ever change that.”

*10 MONTHS LATER*

It is a mild and calm day in September, almost exactly 10 months after Mia’s birth. The last 10 months have been the best, the happiest and the most difficult months of Michael and Marie’s lives. Being parents is an absolute joy to them, Mia is the sweetest, happiest baby on earth (with her mother’s quick temper of course) who is forever smiling and laughing, reaching for her mommy or daddy, wanting cuddles, playing with all her toys with her Aunt Citra, reading with her Aunt Munira and watching old mortal age children’s movies, with her Uncle Rowan. 

Raising Mia is a dream for Marie and Michael, and though there are definitely tough and challenging moments and times, they would not change a single hair on their Mia’s head, she is absolutely perfect just as she is.

Just half an hour ago, while Mia was down for her nap, Michael took the chance to go for a walk along the beach, to clear his head after struggling to get Mia to go to sleep. Marie was happy to stay in with Mia, and find her own way of unwinding and relaxing after the difficult hour they spent trying to get Mia to sleep. 

The walk had done what Michael had hoped and now he could not wait to get back to his wife and daughter. 

As Michael approaches their small beach house, through the window into the living room, he sees Mia sitting on the floor, her toy box emptied around her, smiling broadly up at Marie, who smiles softly back at her and bends to kiss her forehead.

When Michael opens the door and steps in, Mia’s face lights up and her smile broadens. Mia unsteadily pushes herself up onto her feet, wobbling for a few seconds. Usually she will do this and then reach up for whoever she wants to go to, or stand in their way to try and stop them leaving. This time however, she takes a wobbly step forward, causing Michael and Marie to both freeze on the spot, wondering if she’ll take more than one or two steps this time. 

Michael crouches down and holds his arms out to Mia. 

“Come here Mia, come to dada.” He softly encourages. Upon hearing his voice, Mia breaks out into a smile again. Slowly but surely, she wobbles her way over to Michael, walking right into his arms. 

“Oh my god.” Marie quietly says, taking her hands away from her mouth, hardly able to believe Mia just walked properly for the first time. “Oh clever girl, Mia!” 

Michael stands up with Mia in his arms and kisses her cheek. 

“Smart girl indeed, your Aunts and Uncle are going to be so mad they missed that, especially your Uncle Rowan.” He says in an amused tone, walking over to join Marie, and kiss her.

“Michael?” Marie asks in a cautious tone, as he sets Mia down among her toys again, and turns back to her with a smile. 

“Yes?” 

“I... I have to tell you something, can we talk in the kitchen?” Marie asks, even though Mia won’t understand what they’re saying and there’s no door separating the kitchen and living room, she would rather have some semblance of privacy. Michael nods and they cross the room to the kitchen. 

“Is everything alright Marie? Are Citra and Rowan alright? And Munira?” Michael asks in a tone tinged with worry. 

“Everything’s fine, Citra, Rowan and Munira are fine too. It’s just... well you know how we agreed to start the adoption process, when Mia turns 1?” Marie asks. Michael nods. 

“Well, I think we’re going to have to delay it a while longer.”  Michael furrows his brow and looks at her in confusion. As far as hew as concerned Marie was as eager to adopt as he was, to give Mia a sibling, was she having second thoughts? 

“Why is that?” Marie takes a deep breath, smiles up at Michael and takes his hand in hers before pressing it to her stomach. 

“I’m pregnant.” 

[shigironki]

What’s the backstory of your insert? How is she with the survivors and killers? What’s her powers? Sorry for the many questions ^^ she looks really cool!

Her backstory is kinda funky and still in the works, but basically; when she was little she went on a dissociating spree and hurt her family physically horrible in junue, Alaska.

She was went to smiths grove due to not wanting a bad image in the town and state, while being there at around 10, she befriended a fellow who didn’t speak and barley paid attention to her. She stayed close to him since he didn’t pick on her nor bullied, he didn’t really tolerate her at first until her voice and kind touches grew on him. He craved attention from her all the time.

They’d usually just play chess, he’d silently played while she blabbered on about topics that just jumped from places he couldn’t keep up with.

Once he escaped and went back to Haddonfield, she was lonely and abandoned in her own room. Proxy only really drew with the psychologist and adults, watched tv and saw the news light up with a white masked face and jumpsuit. He killed a babysitter and a few others. Dr. Loomis was on screen screaming about the killer and all his evil.

Michael Myers.

She froze in place as she realized why he’d escaped and left her. He wanted to kill again, she could always sense a dark, graving hunger in his eyes, especially when she’d accidentally hurt herself and blood came out. He looked at her like a shark with a bloodied victim.

As he was sent back and in a higher containment, it was hard at first to sneak to him until she watched and observed how everyone went in and out. Going in she felt his blood hunger rise and soon she couldn’t help but smile to see her friend again.

The two kept hanging out - if you wanna call it that, more or so she’s doing crafts while he listens in and out - until one day..

Michael seemed off, he kept marking her stuff with only one word.

‘Mine’

She confronted him one day when she was painting and he painted the words onto it, knowing it’d piss her off. What she didn’t expected was him holding a small glass shard as he came out at her, slicing one of her eyes (left) to the point it wasn’t functional.

He carved the words deep into her skin next, ‘mine’, like on her artwork.

The security guards and Loomis came into the room rushed, seeing the poor girl lay at the floor with Michael hovering over her with the glass shard.

After the incident, she finally left the building and decided to live in Haddonfield. She.. at first, didn’t know what she wanted from this town, but then it soon dawned on her; Michael went here.

She lived in mainly isolation, fear of the world and itself as soon as the news broke out again; Michael left Smith’s and was out and released against every precaution made.

After that... some dark, misty fog became over her, making her dizzy and dainty as she was now beside a campfire..

-

At first, she was a survivor, mainly keeping to herself, leading the survivors to be cautious of her. They grew on her alittle, they loved her and only wanted to protect her.

It wasn’t until Michael saw her again. Fixing a generator and then soon running away from him.

After a few rounds the entity began to suspect something from them, soon learning more and more about her.. realizing that she belongs as a killer.

-

Her main thing; she carries a usual medium kitchen knife, either with a wrap around the handle or with duct tape.

Perks;

Glamour kills; you can’t keep your eyes off of this color - when the survivor is your obsession, each time you hook a survivor they can sense you less and less

Therapy time; the walls reek of a mental Institute - each time the survivor makes a noise their aura is revealed to you for 10 seconds

Crocodile tears; the cries of the trauma relives - when you make noise any time around survivors it can take your aura and turn it into a survivors for a matter of 10 seconds

True love; being locked up has its perks - when a survivor is unhooked by the same person, you can track them both down. Taking both at the same time earns you more speed and agility

-

With the survivors; they fear her, hey feel sorry for her. They stopped reasoning with them after each time they do, it’d end with their heads crushed in. They all just hope she’ll come to her senses.. but it’s been long enough.

With the killers; she’s more.. helpful and sweet to a few, making them friends in her eyes. She usually patches them up, feeds and hangs out with them. Even sneaking into trials to help.