#his fake casual attitude fucking gets me in this scene. like.

[twink-with-an-agenda]

Horrible man. Terrible awful bastard. I love him.

#his fake casual attitude fucking gets me in this scene. like. #as if he ISN'T currently considering 'cleaning house'. as if he isnt currently planning how to erase everyones memories again. #and he pretends to be oh so mild mannered and unbothered and innocent #hes frantically trying to figure out how much they know and what he needs to do to them and yet he pretends like NOTHING IS UP #shakes him violently #john gaius #ejg #the locked tomb #tlt #harrow the ninth #gideon the ninth #my art

[nxathyx]

Bsd boys with a sassy reader

Chuuya Nakahara x gn!reader, Dazai Osamu x Gn!Reader, Nikolai Gogol x Gn!reader, Fyodor Dostoyevski x Gn!reader, Sigma x Gn!reader, Akutagawa Ryuunoske x gn!reader

More so with a reader who is good at insulting, back talking ect.

Trigger warnings: insults, cursing, a guy trying to hit on/harras reader but they pop and lock (girlboss besties), mentions of su!cide (on Dazais part, jealousy, mentions of alcohol and clubs/bars, slander, ooc, Let Me know if I missed anything

Chuuya Nakahara

°HE FUCKING ADORES HOW SASSY YOU ARE!!

°he wouldn't admit it but finds it so attractive and straight up admires you when you put someone in their place and or stand up for yourself

°would definitely praise you for it

°if he wasn't as prideful as he is mf would straight up be on his knees worshiping you and your words of degrading

°if y'all ever argued it'd just be you being your sassy ass self and him being like 🤨🙄😃😧😰 (progressively regretting his decisions)

Let's set the scene first shall we? You and Chuuya were currently in a club/bar. You were just engaging in a casual conversation with your boyfriend sipping on your alcoholic beverage of choice (or literally anything if you don't drink). You were having a swell time just enjoying that Chuuya finally had some free time from work, that is until this man came up to you, he wasn't necessarily bad looking, but he was very average and basic to say the least. Chuuya glanced at the male but not speaking anything of it.

"hey, cutie~ how about I show you a fun time, just you, and me alone in bed~

You didn't even spare him a glance, replying bluntly and shortly

"fuck off, im not interested"

The man looked at you with a smirk, totally ignoring Chuuyas presence. Nakahara felt disappointed, disgusted even by the mere nerve that guy had, but sighed and continued to sip on his wine

"a little bit of attitude I see, that's such a turn on baby.."

It was quite clear the individual was intoxicated, you finally glanced at him with a sigh

"shame your such a turn off, with that cheap ass target shirt" (I love target don't come for me😭😭

The male got rather angered by how you spoke to him and were barely even batting an eye at him. Chuuya was grinning just watching the interaction watching you insult this lowlife with no mercy

"aw, come on.. Don't be like that, let me give you a fun experience and a night to remember"

"a night to remember is when you'll fuck yourself on a chainsaw you pathetic lowlife, get your horny ass together, get a proper job, focus on yourself and be respectful that way you might actually get some bitches in your life"

To say the least, the man wasn't too happy, his hand snaking around your waist, your natural instinct of self defence kicking in as you kick him in the shin

"what was that for you bitch?!"

He asked, seeming pissed of at you, at this point Chuuya has had enough and stood up, standing between you and the guy

"can you piss off? They're not interested nor available, jackass"

The fucker simply ignored Chuuya and tried again

At that point Chuuya got fed up with him, slapping him and leaving the place. As soon as you two got home he was by your side making sure you're alright <3

Dazai Osamu

°he lives for your sassiness

°imagine if you both work at the detective agency and Kunikida is scolding him and then you just back talk, not even bothering to look at them

°motherfucker Was like awooga awooga let me rearrange your insides babygirl😻😻

°definetly finds that really fucking attractive

°will proudly stand right beside you like "yes. That's my s/o. Yes, they're a bitch, and I love them"

You and Osamu were currently in the agency office, you were filling in some papers, whilst Dazai was getting scolded by Kunikida like most days. You weren't paying much attention to why he was getting told off, but you assumed it was because of one of his daily shenanigans, like jumping into a river mid mission, or giving Kunikida fake facts and or advice causing pages from Kunikidas notebook being ripped or scratched out by the ink. After a few more scolding words from Kunikida, you're boyfriend went behind you, hiding behind your office chair, you hummed a little "Hm?" as Dazai proceeded to explain that Kunikidas scolding is pointless cause he hasn't done anything wrong, however most of it was muffled due to Kunikidas continued scolding over the desk, it was insufferable to hear as you turned to Kunikida

"can you respectfully shut up?"

Kunikida just looked at you completely surprised, Dazai on the other hand had a grin, falling on his knees in an almost comedic manner before you asking when it's his time to hear such degrading words from you

Nikolai Gogol

°does his silly goofy little grins

°pulls pranks on Decay members and uses you to do all the "explaining"

°annoys you as much as possible using his ability just to see you get all sassy

You were currently laying on the couch, in the living room, it was pretty early in the morning and you haven't ate breakfast yet. You were home alone, your partner doing god knows what, and you preferred to not know. You stood up from the couch to go make yourself some breakfast, you were in the mood for something sweet, so you decided on pancakes, grabbing butter to melt on the pan later, milk, flour, sugar, and.. You just looked at the content of the fridge, confused why it lacked the eggs, you could've sworn there was at least half a carton left yesterday, you sighed realising you either have to go to the store or just make something else, you sighed softly once more looking into the fridge, grabbing some jam, putting the flour and sugar back, before sliding a bit on your socks to put the milk and butter back in the fridge, just looking even more confused due to the eggs suddenly appearing, realising it was probably the jester playing tricks on you, grabbing the eggs quite quickly so they don't dissappear once more. You placed all the ingredients on the counter once more, beginning to make the batter, you were about to pour the batter on the pan, before noticing a small yellow portal, taking the pan in with a red gloved hand, sighing once more you said a little.

"I'll chop your dick off and dismember your head with that pan if you don't give it back"

Nikolai poked his head out a bit with a smug grin, holding the pan up, by the center but instead of the handle, causing him to burn his hand and getting a bit of the melted butter on his palm, dropping the pan onto the floor with a loud sound of metal hitting something. Although the sound wasn't pleasant at all you got to laugh at your boyfriend for being a little stupid fucking idiot

Fyodor Dostoyevski

°THIS FUCKER IS SO SMUG ABOUT IT

°if you ever Insult Dazai he'll give you like 5 countries

°if he truly loves you that is

°if not he'll Stil probably find it amusing, you might even get a little giggle out of him

°would definetly be sassy towards you as well

Fyodor was currently in his office (discord mod cave) , eyeing like 5 fucking monitors at the same time.

"Fedya, come out of your rat infested room already"

You said a bit irritated by the fact he's been there for like a week, not even bothering to come out for basic necessities, at this point you were even wondering where the hell he pisses— not important. It seems he has ignored you calling out for him. You opened the door, you wanted to ruffle his hair but just looked at that and almost gagged

"you look like an oiled up pan.. You better fucking wash that, I doubt even lice would want to be there"

And after saying that you left the room, leaving a confused Fyodor, who just sat there processing what the fuck you just said

Sigma

°okay Mr 3-4x bullcut would be nervous asf

°like he's scared you'll end up in a fight from the way you talk with others

°finds it humouring if you insult Gogol though

°would love hearing you insult everyone, in private

You were standing next to a machine in the casino, leaning your side against it until a fairly attractive female came up to you

"are you going to keep standing here and hogging the machine so no one can use it? Or will you move your damn self some where else?"

You were a bit stunned by the sudden hostility but slightly impressed and even amused

"i know damn Well your not talking to me with that 3$ wig your wearing right now, and don't even get me started on those earrings and necklace your wearing, like girl, did you grab those of a Christmas tree?"

The girl turned around on her heel, a few minutes later the number you had got called into the managers office. You walk in to notice Sigma trying to look stoic and not at all nervous, making you snicker a bit. Sigma turned to the woman and told her she's free to leave and he'll take it from here, the girl gave you a smirk as she left as if she just won millions, making you almost choke trying not to laugh

"dear.. Please stop being rude to my clients—"

"well your clients are bitches"

The discussion continued for a bit ending in you nuzzling your head against Sigmas neck as he continued to do his paperwork.

Akutagawa Ryuunoske

°this man is as sassy as you like oml

°don't say anything about Dazai, Gin or Chuuya though, or just people he generally respects

°feel free to talk as much shit as you want about Atsushi though

°if you ever tell Higuchi off he'll find it very amusing

°y'all definetly try to out sass each other

You and Aku were currently laying in bed, you were talking about someone at your work place that has been annoying you lately. You were insulting them freely, not bothered by the fact Akutagawa was trying to fall asleep, not until he told you to shut up, which ended in endless sassy comments going back and forth between the two of you as well as you a bit curled over in laughter and Akutagawa trying to hold back a snicker

I nnot proud of this but spent too much fucking time writing this and didn't even finish 💀💀

#bsd x reader #chuuya bsd #chuuya nakahara #chuuya x reader #x reader #bsd dazai #bungou stray dogs dazai #dazai osamu #dazai x reader #akutagawa ryuunosuke #akutagawa bsd #akutagawa x reader #bsd akutagawa #fyodor dostoevsky #bsd fyodor #fyodor dostoyevsky bsd #fyodor x reader #nikolai gogol #nikolai x reader #nikolai bsd #sigma #dazai #fyodor #sigma bsd #sigma bungou stray dogs #bsd sigma #bungo stray dogs #sigma x reader #sigma x you #dazai x you

[jackson--t]

Hate me, adore me.

Part IV

Summary: Ivar is not good with children.

Words: 3.1 k

Warnings: smut, swear words, rude behaviour, a lot of fucks (really).

Tag buddys: @youbloodymadgenius @jadelynlace @punkrocknpearls @neverwantedagony​ @moonlightsspirit​

AO3? here.

Ivar liked many things.

He liked to watch his basketball games on TV, along with a cold beer. He loved Game of Thrones with ramen in his bed, all Sunday long when he wasn't on duty. He loved chocolate ice cream, preferably with lots of colorful sprinkles on top - and he loved good sex.

But on this day, Ivar felt reminded once again of all the things that annoyed him terribly and that drove the absolutely annoyed wrinkles on his forehead already at 7 a.m.; it wasn't just Heahmund's know-it-all attitude, once again, when he had forced Ivar to fasten his seat belt while driving; or the fact that he had once again wanted to forbid him to chew gum. Ivar had ironcladly defied the gum rule: because he needed it. He needed it bitterly so as not to get too upset and to keep his mouth closed as best he could, to have something to do so as not to let expletives hail. Because one of the causes of his bad mood was just waddling across the street at super low speed and was caustic and annoying: children.

Ivar had always successfully avoided having to escort the little buggers across the street in the morning until now - but thanks to Heahmund's terrific, terrible effort and his disgusting good nature as Mr. Jesus, he had been forced to ride with Heahmund to the nearest elementary school even before he was actually on duty, and to go on duty as a fucking friend and helper. His mood was in the basement, more than that.

He cast a scowl down at a small, blond girl who was staring at him with wide eyes; she had her mouth slightly open and was still staring at him when Ivar had turned away slightly. When he noticed, he looked at the girl again; the little girl blinked.

"Are you a policeman? You don't look very nice, do you?" the little girl squeaked, and Ivar rolled his eyes. He loved his job because of the guns, because of the violence, because of the "don't give a shit" attitude he could let out to some - but today was a shitty day. And those little green poison dwarfs didn't make it any better.

Ivar stared at the girl for a moment, then let out a deep and annoyed snort. "Nah, I'm a garbage man, you little devil. Move along before I eat you up."

The girl stopped for a moment in shock, and when Ivar took a faked step towards her, she shrieked and ran towards Heahmund, who was standing just a few feet away, directing the children across the street with a broad smile. Urgh, Mister Perfect. Again.

"Ivar!" echoed over to him, and Ivar chewed his gum in annoyance. He threw Heahmund a rough nod, while the older policeman eyed him indignantly.

"What are you doing? You're not supposed to scare the kids!" he said reprovingly, turning directly back to the little girl who Ivar had scared earlier with a smile.

Ivar wrinkled his nose and crossed his arms in front of his chest. He still couldn't decide what made him feel sicker to his stomach: those little buggers, or that the critters worshipped Heahmund so much it almost looked like a scene from the damn Bible.

It seemed worlds between today and yesterday; endless, endless days since he'd had sex with Heahmund, and for the first time experienced a different side of the cop than his haloed nerd side. Ivar bit his lower lip softly at the thought of their "slip" and stared at Heahmund; he hated to admit it, but that encounter had left its mark on Ivar.

Of course, he would never confess it in his life, not even under torture: but he had easily fallen for Heahmund - at least the part that had fucked him mercilessly yesterday. It had been that unbelievably good sex, that passion that had been there between them - and that sheer tension that had existed between them for ages. They were like fire and water, like night and day - but that's what made it exciting for Ivar. He had almost not been able to look at himself in the mirror the next morning, because he had actually jerked off to that memory twice the night after the "accident" - always that perfect body in front of his eyes, that smell that had been on Heahmund's skin, those damn arousing kisses that had given Ivar more than goosebumps.

And yet he hated him, in a way. The way he stood there, bringing those fucked-up kids across the street, with an angelic smile that sent sheer goosebumps of horror across Ivar's skin; he could hardly stand the way the little fuckers looked at the man like he was the next messiah, while they just eyed Ivar like something they were afraid of. Ivar just stared at a fat kid who was eyeing him particularly challengingly as he jutted his chin slightly.

"What do you want, pug face, huh?" he snarled, and it wasn't a second before Heahmund's voice thundered across the street.

"IVAR, damn it! It’s enough!" Oh, Ivar heard the anger from the raspy voice, that little thread of last, polite restraint guaranteed to snap in the patrol car. He looked at Heahmund, unimpressed, and raised an eyebrow; Heahmund's blue eyes had darkened.

"Would be nice if you didn't play godfather to the fucking lambs for once, so we can get out of here," Ivar retorted snottily, while Heahmund snorted.

"Okay, get in the car. And don't use those damn swear words! Kids, don't listen to him. They call him the Grinch at the station." Heahmund deaclred, amused, while he was immersed in soft children's laughter.

Ivar had had enough. He threw his stupid ladle against the sidewalk and lit a cigarette; he walked the few meters to the patrol car and casually leaned against the passenger side. His lungs were burning, so hard he pulled on the cigarette - but he didn't care. Let the fucking Heahmund shut his fucking mouth! Had he possibly imagined that there was more going on there? Had he possibly jerked off twice on him by mistake? Yes. But that was really just a slip. It could hardly be anything else, after all Ivar didn't go for men like Heahmund. Fuck it, whatever his stupid heart said.

It wasn't fifteen minutes before Heahmund appeared at the patrol car with a more than angry expression on his face; he stared at Ivar for a moment, then nodded roughly in the direction of the car. Ivar flicked his cigarette onto a patch of grass and got in; as they sat in the car, their eyes met. For a moment there was a tense silence, during which Ivar calmly chewed his gum so clearly that Heahmund could see it perfectly; only when he leaned back slightly did Heahmund's deep voice murmur at him.

"Did you just throw a lit cigarette on a lawn there?" he asked, and Ivar looked out the window for a moment. He snorted softly before turning to Heahmund again and putting on a soft, overly friendly smile that was hard to beat for sarcasm.

"I don't know, you should check it out. And maybe pick up trash on the side, and you're guaranteed to go to fucking heaven."

Heahmund's brow furrowed slightly; Ivar saw exactly how his hands curled into light fists, but he returned Heahmund's angry look with the still wide grin.

"Ivar, honestly, you're such a fucking asshole, you know that? I really want to punch you in the face right now. You do realize that throwing away burning cigarettes violates environmental regulations, and most importantly, endangers safety?" he hissed, and Ivar shrugged.

Heahmund looked at him for a moment, then actually got up and went outside to properly dispose of the cigarette. Ivar, meanwhile, stared out the window: he looked at Heahmund's butt, at the broad shoulders, at the handsome face that seemed to curse softly. "You fucking nerd, look at you.", Ivar muttered to himself, catching himself biting his lower lip lightly as Heahmund ran his hand through his black hair: one had to hand it to him, he was just damn good looking.

Ivar was still staring at him, too, when Heahmund sat down next to him again and let out a deep sigh; he leaned his head back for a moment, though Ivar was still looking at him. Something tingled inside him.

"You could... hmm... you could punish me really bad under Section 17b, don't you think? You fucking nerd.", Ivar hummed softly; as Heahmund's blue eyes locked on him, he grinned slightly. And his body was bathed in sheer goosebumps when Heahmund finally turned the ignition key and snorted softly. Ivar knew he was taking him up on his offer when they drove into an area where there were almost no buildings - except abandoned factories. It was almost too good, the tingle that shot through his bones when Heahmund finally parked; and before the older cop could open his mouth and lecture again about any regulations, Ivar's hands had cupped around his face and he was kissing the older man, who, underneath all the hatred and dislike, also inspired terrible and urgent lust in him.

He couldn't even last two minutes in his own seat and had quickly sat down wide-legged on Heahmund's lap. The older cop emitted a slight gasp, almost barely audible, as Ivar's hands dug through his clothes, fumbling with the belt of his pants.

"You're insatiable. And a monster.", Heahmund groaned out between two biting kisses; his hand had long since made its way to Ivar's bulletproof vest, undoing the Velcro and pushing the soft shirt up under Ivar's vest. Ivar loved those warm, rough hands on his torso, and he let Heahmund feel it clearly with a soft moan. His fingers ran desirously urging along Heahmund's zipper on his pants, feeling the thick bulge in them that he was particularly lusting after. Fuck, he was so fucking hot for this guy it was almost embarrassing.

"No foreplay, you greedy grinch? Fuck, Ivar... at least with a condom this time!", Heahmund murmured softly, even though Ivar's hands were already pushing and softly rushing into his pants. When he had the thick and already hard cock in his hand, Ivar exhaled for a moment; he closed his eyes and pressed himself against Heahmund's torso before hissing softly, "Tell me, are you somehow only getting horny when you have protection? You want to maybe leave that fucking vest on during sex too, nerd?"

As Ivar intensified his movements on Heahmund's cock, Heahmund's pelvis clearly moved upward; Ivar sensed him looking at him and opened his eyes.

"Would it turn you on?" Heahmund murmured breathlessly; Ivar opened his lips breathlessly, moving his warm hand tighter and tighter around Heahmund's cock. He loved how the trained cop grew harder and harder, how wet drops of pleasure appeared on his tip, which Ivar easily wiped away with a slight gasp and a nimble movement with his thumb; Heahmund moaned, but they were still looking at each other.

The corners of Ivar's mouth lifted slightly, then he grunted. "Fuck, yeah."

"I knew it. Harder." Heahmund moaned, pulling Ivar's neck closer, covering his neck with warm, smooth, slightly biting kisses as Ivar's hand continued steadily. His own erection was pressing like mad against his pants, and Ivar was so incredibly hot for Heahmund that he didn't take any time. After all, a damn stake could flutter in at any moment.

He unzipped his own pants to the slight groan of Heahmund, pulling them down somewhat awkwardly along with his boxers to the point where he could still practically sit well on top of Heahmund; his body was covered in goosebumps as he watched Heahmund spit into his own hand in one fluid motion, wetting his hard cock with it. Ivar grinned slightly; he wet two of his fingers before sliding them into his entrance with a slightly awkward motion, widening it slightly; the sound that came from Heahmund sent pure pleasure through his body. The two looked at each other.

"Fuck, Ivar. You're such a fucking beast, I swear I'll fuck the hell out of you already."

"Oh, come on - you're into it. You probably only had 0815 cunts that looked pretty but had nothing on them."

Ivar almost whimpered when Heahmund abruptly stopped him from his movements; his fingers slipped out and he was pulled onto Heahmund's lap with a firm and strong grip; he placed himself over Heahmund's cock, moaning slightly as he looked into the dark-haired man's eyes.

"Then let's see how good you can ride, gutter boy!" Heahmund groaned; Ivar's fingers clawed brutally at Heahmund's chin, holding it up as he gently lowered his pelvis and let Heahmund's hard cock slide carefully inside him; he did it deliberately slowly, letting that rock-hard muscle stretch him open gently, loving the way Heahmund's mouth opened slightly, the way his fingers clawed harder into the flesh of his hips.

"Fuck, Ivar!" he moaned darkly, and Ivar jerked his chin up again that had turned shallowly towards his chest - those blue eyes staring at him full of fire.

"Don't call me that! You fucking bastard." Ivar hissed; he whimpered softly as he felt himself sink to the base on Heahmund; they were both breathing heavily, and Ivar pulled Heahmund's face closer to him, pulling the older cop into a biting, hard kiss before slowly moving up and down.

Fuck, damn. It hadn't been enough that Heahmund had been an absolute grenade in bed the last time, no - his cock just seemed made for Ivar's core. It was perfect in thickness, and even more perfect in length, that it was already softly grazing the soft bundle of nerves inside Ivar with every deep movement Ivar made on it. Ivar swallowed audibly and clawed at the back of Heahmund's neck; he loved feeling the pressure of Heahmund's hands on his body, loved the fucking vest he was still wearing, which only further vocalized his fucking nerdiness, which seduced Ivar beyond belief. His movements became steadier, more violent, and he became more and more breathless.

Oh man, this was going to end in an orgasmic disaster. Heahmund was just too good.

They kissed breathlessly, and Heahmund's hands slid up to Ivar's waist; they closed warmly around the arches of his ribs, supporting him in the movements that were becoming more fluid and deeper, even as they took away Ivar's breath. His belly was pleasantly filled with warmth, so full of feeling.

"We can...fuck, Ivar!- ...we could maybe discuss the punishment thing over an evening...dinner. Fuck, you're killing me," Heahmund cursed, and Ivar threw his head back slightly.

He knew he wouldn't last long - but he would definitely not get ahead of Heahmund this time. He knew too many tricks in this position for that. He smiled softly as he let his entrance twitch slightly around the thick cock; it drove a moan from Heahmund's lips.

"Is that a fucking date, Heahmund?" Ivar exhaled, clawing harder at the base of Heahmund's black hair on the back of his neck. The older cop underneath him groaned, and his hands at his waist twitched. Ivar repeated the motions twice before Heahmund threw his head back slightly in his seat.

"Is...no, this is an...on-duty...fuck!... meeting”. Heahmund's voice grew harsher, thirstier, Ivar heard it clearly. It turned him on so much that he himself had to be beastly careful not to come right on top of that hard cock thrusting into his prostate at the perfect angle over and over again; but he was too proud. He held out for a little while longer. But the thought that Heahmund had just asked him for a private meeting chased even more lust into his body.

He was hot, so damn hot inside.

"Sure, you weirdo." Ivar hummed with pleasure, soaking in the taste of another kiss that Heahmund breathlessly gave him; his hands weren't letting go now, and the cop's pelvis thrusting from below was getting a little faster. When their lips parted, Heahmund opened his eyes slightly, seeking Ivar's gaze.

"Fuck, I think I..." he groaned, and Ivar moaned.

"You're coming, aren't you? Come on, you know I want you to...", Ivar breathed against those fucking delicious lips, stealing a breathless kiss before watching Heahmund's eyes close with a powerful wave of heat in his body.

"Fuck, I'm coming..." the cop moaned so harshly that Ivar moaned softly; he clawed at Heahmund's body as tightly as he could, wrapping his heated arms tightly around the body, almost amazed, manically turned on, at how quickly it made Heahmund come, that simple touch.

The man groaned a dark moan right at Ivar's sensitive collarbone, deep and rough as he came jerking inside Ivar. Ivar continued to ride him, riding him hard and demanding until he too felt the violent crashing peak of his orgasm: the wave of pleasure crashed over him so brutally that he had to stop his riding movements to avoid losing control completely. Just like the first time, this orgasm tore out something deep inside Ivar, gave him everything he needed, nourished him with so much love and lust that he almost choked on it.

The windows were fogged the hell up when Ivar broke away from Heahmund after what felt like an eternity; they were able to wipe away the mess they'd both made just fine, because of course the nerdy Heahmund had good tissues with him; Ivar grunted quietly and had to grin a little wryly when Heahmund had to spend a long time wiping at a stain on his black vest, with a quiet, annoyed snort.

"You can tell it's gravy," Ivar said, earning a nasty look from Heahmund after he luckily managed to remove the stain just fine; when Ivar was back in his seat and, to Heahmund's satisfaction, even buckled up for once, Heahmund looked over at him. The two looked at each other, and then Heahmund smiled slightly.

It was a beautiful smile, one that Ivar hadn't seen from him before, and one that made him feel sick in a different way than he did on the road today. As if suddenly, there was something in his belly that fluttered around like crazy and made him almost happy inside. Disgustingly happy.

"I was serious about the... dinner." Heahmund said; the blue eyes sparkled slightly, and Ivar grinned a little wider. He couldn't go soft now, no way - Heahmund couldn't score points everywhere with his nerdy, gentlemanly behavior, after all. "Maybe we'll get along better someday. Get to know each other better." the dark-haired man added, and Ivar turned his head slightly so that Heahmund wouldn't see him blush slightly on his cheeks. He popped a new piece of gum into his mouth and winked.

"Shut up and drive, you miserable nerd. You won't get the Nobel Peace Prize for polishing, too."

But his heart had already said yes, and he also knew, without looking over, that Heahmund knew, too.

#vikings #ff #fanfiction #cops #ivar the boneless #heahmund #heavar #ivar x heahmund

[rhysismydaddy]

can you write a canon rowaelin oneshot where aelin’s pregnant and it’s nighttime so while she’s sleeping, rowan talks to the baby through her stomach and sings a lullaby? and maybe add a scene where aelin’s water breaks and rowan freaks out or something?

It was about two minutes before Aelin’s favorite part of the day.

She could hardly wait, but she had to remember to stay calm and still and everything else someone who was asleep would be. 

Luckily, she knew she didn’t snore, so all she had to do was stay quiet and keep her eyes shut.

A small task that became so much harder when--two minutes later, at exactly 10:30 like always--she felt her husband slip into bed next to her. 

It’d been getting harder and harder to actually stay awake this late as her pregnancy developed, but she still found herself fighting the fall of her eyelids every night, despite knowing she should sleep.

Cool air kissed her skin briefly as he settled next to her and kissed her cheek. Like she’d done even before getting pregnant, she turned on her side so he could snuggle her from behind and wrap his arms around her.

This was home to her, here in his arms. 

Rowan’s head tucked into her neck, and she sighed sleepily, something she didn’t even have to fake.

After a few moments, her husband’s hands began to rub over her stomach lightly. 

She was wearing one of his t-shirts, one that barely fit over her anymore, and hadn’t bothered to wash her hair that day, but she’d never felt more beautiful than when he smiled against her neck and started to talk to the child they’d created together.

He silently slipped further down the bed, resting his head on the curve of her hip, but kept himself wrapped around her so she could continue stealing his warmth.

Aelin’s ears strained to hear as he started whispering, but she resisted the temptation to move closer, knowing it would give her away.

“Mommy’s sleeping right now, so we have to be quiet,” he murmured, big hands cradling her even bigger belly. “But soon, we’ll be able to do this in person. You’ll be here by the end of the week, from what they tell us.”

Tears burned in her eyes at the excitement in his voice as he said, “I can’t wait to meet you, Firefly.”

They’d found out they were having a girl two weeks ago, and he’d been ridiculous ever since, buying pink onesies, hanging matching twinkly lights in the nursery, reading a how-to book about raising girls.

But the one thing they hadn’t prepared for was what they were going to name her. They’d argued about it, and then one day he just started referring to their unborn child as Firefly. 

It was a nickname that stemmed from him calling her Fireheart, and it made her almost cry every time he said it. 

“Your mother’s the most important woman in my life, but you... you’re my baby girl.” She could hear his smile. “You’re going to be just like her. You’ll be strong, and beautiful, and will drive me absolutely crazy.”

Silent tears escaped, even as she remained perfectly still. 

“But I can’t wait to see what traits of mine you have, too.” He pressed his lips to her stomach in a feather-light kiss, then whispered, “I love you so much, little Firefly. Now go to sleep.”

Rowan resumed his big-spoon position and pulled her against his chest, wrapping his arms around her to cradle both her and their child. 

“That goes for you, too, Fireheart.”

Aelin grinned and snuggled further into him, murmuring, “I love you, Ro.”

He kissed her cheek. “I love you, too.”

~

“Are you serious?” 

She nodded. 

“You want lemon gelato for lunch?”

Rowan’s brow furrowed, prompting her to ask, “Why not?”

He looked at her like she had two heads. “You hate lemon, babe.”

Aelin groaned, rubbing a hand over her stomach. She’d forgotten about that. “Take it up with her. She’s the one demanding it. Little brat.”

He scowled. “She isn’t a brat. And she can have as much lemon gelato as she wants just as soon as she’s born.”

Her stomach reminded her once again how empty it was.

“Rowan, I swear I’m going to stab you if you don’t go get me something to eat.”

Her husband just smiled. “It’s moments like these when I’m reminded why I agreed to spend the rest of my life with you.”

“A very short life, if you don’t-”

A container of gelato landed on the counter in front of her, along with a spoon. 

With narrowed eyes, she checked the label, then demanded, “How did you know?”

He laughed. “You talk in your sleep.”

���Eavesdropper,” she mumbled, ripping into the container and taking a huge mouthful. 

See, this is why pregnancy was strange to Aelin. Nine months ago she’d hated lemon, and now this stupid container of gelato was the best thing she’d ever eaten.

“I love you,” she said around a mouthful, grinning when he came to press a kiss to her cheek. 

“And now she’s sweet,” he teased, brushing her hair off her forehead. 

Then he went tense, and every bone in his body seemed to still as he said seriously, “Aelin. Look down.”

“I can’t see past my belly, dummy. Just pick up whatever I dropped.”

His mouth opened and closed for a few seconds before he spit out, “You... your water broke.”

She leaned over slightly to look at the floor, seeing that there was in fact a wet spot beneath her. “Huh.”

She took another bite of gelato.

“Huh?” he asked incredulously, leaving the kitchen and starting to run around the house. He threw things in the bag he’d affectionately deemed The Baby Bag, yelling at her to get ready.

She rolled her eyes and continued eating, only pausing when Rowan burst into the room and demanded breathlessly, “What are you doing?”

“Eating. Can you hand me the pizza from last night?”

Because who was she to question her daughter’s cravings?

“Aelin, we have to go! You’re in labor.”

Reaching the bottom of the container, she sighed. Why did they make pints so small these days? “I’m aware.”

“So then get in the car!”

Her always calm and collected husband looked about ten seconds away from ripping his own hair out, which made her smile. “Labor lasts hours, Rowan. I assure you, I have time to eat a slice of pizza.”

“I’ll order you a whole, brand new, hot pizza at the hospital.”

She considered this, tapping her chin. “Fine.”

Then she turned and waddled down the hallway to their room.

“Wait!” he called out, coming after her. “What are you doing? The door is the other way.”

“I’m not going to the hospital in a wet dress, Rowan. It’s called standards.” Ignoring his angry little growl, she changed into a clean dress. “Zip me up, please.”

He zipped the dress in a flash, almost ripping it, then grabbed her hand and started pulling her towards the door. 

“Wait, I need shoes!”

He pinched the bridge of his nose, green eyes bright with panic. “Babies don’t care if you wear shoes when you birth them.”

“If you think I’m walking across a hospital floor with no shoes on... grab those, will you?” She pointed to a pair of sandals, not feeling like bending down to get them herself. 

Rowan roughly put her feet in them, making her frown. “I’m not really appreciating this attitude, you know. You don’t need to manhandle me.”

His jaw was tight from where he was grinding it, but he still sounded perfectly civil as he said back, “I just want to get to the hospital.”

Aelin sighed, patting his shoulder. “It’s been five minutes. We have time.”

He looked a little relieved... until she said casually, “Plus, worst comes to worst, you deliver her in the tub. All doctors really do is stand there and catch the kid.”

His mouth fell open, and the attitude came swooping back in. “I am not birthing this child in our bathtub, woman. Now, you can walk to the car yourself, or I will carry you, but either way we are leaving right the fuck now.”

Rolling her eyes, she turned and slowly made her way to the door, pausing when she came back into the kitchen. “You know, cold pizza actually sounds better-”

Rowan swooped her up, the ten pound bowling ball in her stomach seeming to be no issue, and walked toward the front door. 

“Rowan! Put me down, you buzzard!”

He set her in the passenger seat, gripped her chin, and set a serious kiss to her lips. “You’re so sweet.”

Her hands fisted in the hem of her dress. “I don’t want to go yet.”

“You’re going.”

“No!” she exploded, pushing him away and trying to get out of the car. “No, no, no. I can’t go yet, I need more time, I-”

Understanding dawned in his eyes, and he slipped a hand over her mouth to shut her up. “You can do this, Fireheart.”

She was crying, although she wasn’t sure when that had even started. 

She shook her head.

“You’re the strongest woman I’ve ever met. You can do this. You’re going to be a great mom. I may be freaking out about actually getting to the hospital, but I’m not scared about what follows.”

Aelin gave him disbelieving eyes.

"If I wasn’t sure, one hundred percent positive, that you could do this, then yeah, I’d be scared. But you’re going to do great. I know that, and so do you.”

He took his hand off her mouth, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Sweetheart, you’re great at everything. This won’t be any different.”

That made her smile, even as she rolled her eyes. 

“I am pretty amazing,” she agreed softly.

“Yes, you are. But I’d really like to do this in a hospital room instead of our driveway, and you’re probably half-way dilated by now, so-”

It was Aelin’s turn to cover his mouth with her hand. “Let’s go meet Firefly.”

She didn’t even know the name of her child or how the hell they were going to pull this off, but under the steady weight of his gaze, Aelin knew that no matter what, they’d figure it out together.

~

[wolveria]

Inside Your Wires - Ch 6

Pairing: Human!Connor x Android!Reader

Series Warnings (18+ only): Eventual smut, slow burn, fantasy bigotry, violence, brief noncon elements, angst with a happy ending

Chapter summary: Connor gets his new assignment. He's not thrilled.

AO3

Story moodboard by @uh-kitty-got-wet​

Chapter 5 art by @semains​ (18+ only)

November 6th, 2038

Saturday 09:56AM

There was a time when Connor didn’t have to come in on Saturdays. He remembered the days when mandatory overtime was few and far between.

Not anymore. 2038 seemed to be the year shit just kept happening, and now that he thought about it, quite a few of it seemed to be because of androids. Ones gone missing. Disobeying orders. And now, homicidal.

Connor rubbed the bridge of his nose after putting his car into park, regretting how enthusiastically he’d hit the bottle last night. It wasn’t too bad this time, just an annoying throbbing behind his eyes, but it made it more difficult to see and he’d had to squint through his windshield.

Whatever. The reason for his shame-drinking was no longer relevant. Connor just had to survive until lunchtime, and if he were lucky, Hank would let him go early. He tried not to itch at the butterfly bandages on his cheek, applied himself after he’d woken up in a haze with blood on his pillow having completely forgotten the injury existed.

Connor kept his head down as he walked through the lobby of the station and through the security checkpoint to the bullpen proper. He tried not to be completely antisocial, however, and sent weak smiles at the coworkers who bothered to notice he was there.

Helen, Alexander, and Rupert all acknowledged him with various degrees of warmth, some colder than others, and all pretty much deserved. Ralph gave Connor a nervous smile from his chair, though it quickly faded as his eyes flickered to something across the room.

Frowning, he followed Ralph’s eye line across the bullpen and scowled when he spotted Colin leaning casually against Connor’s desk, talking to… someone. He couldn’t see who, Colin’s figure blocking them from view.

Against his better judgement, Connor drew closer, pressure building at the back of his neck, an uneasy feeling of dread that increased with each step.

“Con’s just gonna love this. But seriously, if he bitches about it too much, or gives you a hard time, you can always partner up with me. I won’t mind one bit, promise.”

Connor would have rolled his eyes at his brother’s typical cocksure demeanor, but instead, he went stock still at the familiar voice that answered.

“While the offer is appreciated, Lieutenant, my instructions stipulate that I must assist Detective Anderson with his new, specialized caseload. I’m sure you can understand that CyberLife only wishes to cooperate with the DPD and does not want to interfere with police procedure—“

“What the hell are you doing here?”

The YN800 model blinked and turned its head to meet Connor’s eye, its little blue light blinking for a moment before solidifying again.

It was sitting in Connor’s chair.

“It’s good to see you again, Detective,” it answered, chipper as ever as a fake smile graced its features.

Connor looked the prototype over, his nose crinkling at its appearance. The suit must have been brand new, there were no stains or bullet holes, and her—its hair was once again pinned upwards into a perfect knot.

He felt his insides churn at the near slip, at thinking for even a split second that this thing was a person. Shoving down the crude thoughts of the night before, Connor gave the order through gritted teeth.

“Get. Up.”

The prototype did as it was told, for once. It rose out of his chair, not even having the decency to look chagrined as it straightened its jacket of nonexistent wrinkles.

“I’m sorry, Detective, but I tried to call your phone and left you a message. It was not my intention to surprise you—“

“Oh, no, it’s never your intention to do anything, is it?” Connor snarled back. His headache was in full force now, and he swore he could see the bright lights of the station brighten in time with his heartbeat.

“Aw, c’mon!” Colin slapped him on the shoulder. “Be nice to the temp.”

“Temp?” Connor answered, voice pulled as taut as a wire.

“Yeah, you know. The temporary assistant. The new girl. The—“

He shoved Colin’s hand off his shoulder, leveling a glare at both of them. Colin merely shot him a shit-eating grin while the YN800 stood there, hands clasped behind its back at parade rest, polite and perfect as ever.

“Connor!”

All three of them turned toward the voice booming across the room.

“Get in here!”

Connor glared at the android, as if Hank’s shouting were its fault, which was probably the case.

He turned without a word and stalked to the captain’s office, shoulders hunched as his heart raced and his hands shook at his sides. He let the glass door fall shut behind him, but when he didn’t hear the whoosh of it close, he glanced over his shoulder to see the YN800 had followed him inside.

Great.

Connor stood in front of the desk with his arms crossed.

Hank sat down in his chair, pointedly looking at the chairs in front of his desk. Connor remained standing.

The older man glared, answering Connor’s attitude with a look and a heavy sigh.

“Bet you’re wondering what that’s about.” Hank jerked his chin over Connor’s shoulder. The prototype had taken a spot at the back of the office, observing politely with its hands clasped in front of its hips.

“Yeah, I am.” Connor was a little too cranky this morning to try a more diplomatic approach. “What the hell is it doing here?”

“I’ll get to that. First on the docket, I got a shit ton of android-related cases filling up our database every day and I’m at wit’s end.” Hank took a deep breath, bracing himself as he met Connor’s eye. “Which is why I’m assigning all of these cases to you.”

“You’re what?”

Connor stared at him, dumbfounded.

“You think that case last night was a one-off? We’ve got more android-related crimes rolling in, including assaults and homicides just as bad as the Ortiz case, and right now, you’re the one with the most experience.” Hank leaned his elbows on his desk as he leveled a formidable glare his way. “Is that going to be a problem, Connor?”

 “Yeah, it is a problem, Hank! Why the hell do I have to do this? What about Colin? He was with me at the crime scene and was there for the interrogation!” Connor shoved a finger at the glass wall to prove his point.

Hank’s jaw tightened. Connor had seen that behavior enough times to recognize how he was pushing his luck.

“CyberLife asked for you specifically.”

“What?” Connor blinked, dumbfounded once again, racking his brain but coming up empty. “Why?”

“The hell if I know!” Hank barked back, rising to his feet as he pointed a finger at Connor, “and frankly, I don’t give a damn. Colin’s got enough on his plate—“

“—and I don’t?” Connor interrupted, scowling. Hank sighed and rubbed a hand down his face, and Connor almost felt guilty for his outburst.

Almost.

“That’s not what I said.”

“But it’s what you implied.” He tried not to sound like a hurt child, but, well, that’s exactly what he sounded like.

“For fuck’s sake, Connor! There are more people that are gonna start dying from this!”

“Yeah, I know, but—“

Hank lifted his hand, palm forward, effectively shutting Connor up.

“You saw what one of those deviants was capable of last night, and that was with three of you and another android trying to get it under control! You think the average person stands a chance against one of these fucks? That a little ol’ grandma can defend herself against the murderous robot gardener coming at her with a pair of shears? What the hell happens when a nanny bot decides to take a human kid for itself? Oh, wait, that’s already happened, and you would know that if you checked the goddamn case files I sent you!”

Connor was silent as Hank deflated. The older man leaned back against his desk as he looked through his glass wall out over the bullpen. His voice was rough but much quieter for the next round.

“We’re totally in the dark, Connor. We don’t know how bad this is gonna get and how many androids we’re dealing with. This has the potential to turn into a fucking nightmare with Detroit as ground zero.” Hank’s gaze drifted over Connor’s shoulder to the elephant, or the machine, in the room. “CyberLife was gracious enough to send us a state-of-the-art prototype until this issue is contained. It’s gonna be your partner until such a time that these androids are no longer a threat, and then you’re free to go back to being a misanthropic son-of-a-bitch as much as you like.”

Connor was thoroughly shamed by the end of Hank’s speech, that old familiar feeling of disappointment making his gut roil with nausea, but his anger hadn’t entirely flagged. He clenched his hands tightly to his thighs, fingers desperate for either his coin or his cigarettes.

Connor hadn’t felt the need for one in months. This was bad.

“Hank,” he tried again, his voice soft and pleading in that way he knew Hank couldn’t ignore. “I’m not saying this just to be a pain in your ass. I understand the stakes, but I genuinely believe I’m not qualified for these types of cases. I’m not a CyberLife technician, or an AI specialist, or a computer engineer. I’ve never even owned an android.”

That last one was technically true but only in the barest sense, and Hank gave him a knowing look. It wasn’t without sympathy, and his own answer was given with more kindness than he probably deserved.

“I know, Connor. I also know you’re the sharpest pair of eyes on the force, not to mention the quickest brain and the best instinct. You see shit other people don’t, even Colin, and you’ve got this creepy knack for taking one look at a person and knowing what makes ‘em tick. I’d say you’re almost like an android yourself, but I know how much that’d piss you off.”

Connor gave him another narrow-eyed scowl, and Hank immediately put up his hands as a sign of surrender even as a smirk played on his lips.

“My point is, I need you on this, son. I know it’s not ideal, hell, it downright sucks, but I know you can do this. I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t.”

And there it was. As effective as Connor’s pleading expressions could be, they were nothing in comparison to his need for Hank’s praise. The old geezer knew it, too.

And throwing a “son” into the mix was a goddamn dirty move, but Connor couldn’t even muster up annoyance. He just sighed, gave Hank the smallest hint of a smile, and said, “All right. But only until these cases are solved. Once the deviancy issue is addressed, the prototype is going back to CyberLife and you never give me an android case again.”

“I’ll pay for the postage to ship it back myself,” Hank said, smile wide and pleased as he patted Connor on the shoulder before returning to his desk. “And I want daily reports on the progress you and your new partner are making. Gotta make sure CyberLife’s best is pulling its weight.”

“I can assure you, Captain Anderson, I am worth every penny. And considering it took a small fortune to build me, I—“

“Yeah, yeah,” Hank interrupted the prototype, using that catchphrase that Connor and all of his brothers had picked up years ago. “Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.”

The android blinked almost comically before giving a slow nod. It then turned to face Connor, straightening its back at attention, and he rolled his eyes. He was still being handed the shit end of the stick, but he couldn’t deny that the cases were piling up and Hank really did need the extra help.

But why, out of all the androids in the world, did it have to be one like that.

Exhaling sharply through his nose, Connor turned and left Hank’s office, not waiting to see if the android would follow, knowing with a sinking feeling, it would.

Next Chapter

#connor x reader #human!connor x reader #human!connor x android!reader #connor x android!reader #inside your wires #my fanfiction #my writing

[zintranslations]

Kaleidoscope of Death, Ch. 78

Kaleidoscope of Death by Xi Zixu Link to Chinese / Link to ongoing Taida Translations

Chapter 78: Accident

Tan Zaozao came to visit and asked after Ruan Nanzhu with heartfelt care. The entire time however, Ruan Nanzhu pretty much blew her off.

"How was your fourth door?" Lin Qiushi asked casually as he sat on the side with nothing to do.

"My fourth door?" Tan Zaozao scratched at her head. "Alright, I guess…" She didn't seem keen on talking about the world of the doors, quickly circumventing the topic.

Seeing this, Lin Qiushi didn't ask any further either.

The television hanging on the hospital wall would occasionally play one of Tan Zaozao's perfume commercials. Onscreen, her noble glamor looked completely beyond this world. Lin Qiushi eyed the commercials, then eyed the woman scrunched up next to Ruan Nanzhu, who had her face buried in a mango and yellow fruit flesh smeared all over her mouth. He fell into a peculiar silence.

Tan Zaozao clearly guessed Lin Qiushi's thoughts from his expression, and bellowed, "stop staring, it's all fake anyways!"

Lin Qiushi, "oh…"

Tan Zaozao peered at Lin Qiushi, and asked with malice: "Are there any stars you're a particularly big fan of?"

Lin Qiushi answered frankly: "No." He didn't do the fan thing.

Tan Zaozao, disappointed, "that's a shame. I could've gotten you an autograph or something." I might've even had gossip to completely ruin your image of that person…

As they chatted, a breaking news report appeared on the TV, saying some star had a car accident on his way to a concert and died on the scene. It even showed footage of an awful car crash.

Tan Zaozao, who'd been working on her mango, suddenly looked up, seeming lost.

"He…"

Ruan Nanzhu, lying on the bed, asked quietly, "you knew him?"

Tan Zaozao nodded.

She put down the mango in her hand and spoke lowly, "he seems to be someone from the doors too. We filmed a commercial together, but we weren't close or anything…"

Lin Qiushi watched Tan Zaozao, whose mood had clearly fallen.

"Then he began to have all these accidents." Tan Zaozao talked, speaking quite slowly. "During a concert, a light fell from directly above his head, but he only had minor injuries. And other things as well. I had my suspicions then…"

"Maybe it really is just an accident?" Lin Qiushi frowned. "It might not be the doors…"

"It's probably the doors," Tan Zaozao sighed, clearly down. "I'm heading out. Take care of yourselves."

Despite seeing her like this, Lin Qiushi didn't know how to make her feel better. In the end he could only watch her hurry off.

Ruan Nanzhu's expression remained calm the entire time Tan Zaozao was leaving. Lin Qiushi said, "she's okay, right?"

Ruan Nanzhu, "she's fine. She'll be over it in a couple of days."

Lin Qiushi had always thought of Tan Zaozao as quite an optimistic person. To see her break down so unexpectedly like this…

Even though before the actual breakdown, she'd taken off.

Faced with Lin Qiushi's lack of comprehension, Ruan Nanzhu asked, with some surfacing exasperation: "You've really never liked anybody in particular?"

Lin Qiushi thought carefully, then slowly but surely shook his head.

"No. My family's never been close. As far as I recall… Yeah, I've never really liked anyone."

Since youth, the number of friends he had could be counted on two hands. It was precisely because of this that he had been able to leave behind his hometown to come work here with little hesitation.

"But girls must have liked you." Ruan Nanzhu spoke with absolute certainty. "Unless you've never received a confession before?"

Ruan Nanzhu didn't believe at all that with his personality and appearance, Lin Qiushi hadn't been well-received by women.

"Well sure, I've received confessions, but I turned them all down," Lin Qiushi answered.

Ruan Nanzhu, "how come?"

Lin Qiushi, "because I couldn't give them what they wanted."

Ruan Nanzhu frowned. "How did you know you couldn't?"

Lin Qiushi quieted for a while, before answering softly, "because I didn't like them."

Ruan Nanzhu couldn't help a laugh: "You're self-aware."

Lin Qiushi smiled. "I couldn't delay their lives, they're all good women."

Lin Qiushi was indeed a warm person. If he met someone who needed help, he would do all he could to provide aid. But his kindness wasn't limitless either. To put it bluntly, he would never help others by sacrificing himself; he had a thorough comprehension of his own capabilities, and would never request others to do things outside of the scopes of their abilities either.

A kind, clever person who knew how to accurately assess the situation was bound to be attractive.

Ruan Nanzhu slowly closed his eyes. The things that attracted him to Lin Qiushi however, didn't stop there.

Seeing Ruan Nanzhu shut his eyes, Lin Qiushi thought he must be tired. He stood up from the bedside and quietly left the hospital room. As he did so he spotted Cheng Qianli, who was just coming back with the washed lychees.

"Why are you out here?" Cheng Qianli asked.

"Don't go in," Lin Qiushi said. "He's resting now. Zaozao's left too."

Cheng Qianli, "oh, then what about the lychee?"

Lin Qiushi glanced at it.

"Just leave it. Bring it in when he wakes up, or just eat it yourself."

Cheng Qianli, "nah, I won't. Ruan-ge seems to really like lychee."

At this, Lin Qiushi was suddenly curious.

"What else does he like, besides lychee?"

He had been living together with Ruan Nanzhu for a while now, but still knew little to nothing about Ruan Nanzhu's likes and dislikes.

Cheng Qianli, "what he likes? He likes plenty of things." He looked at the lychee, then looked at Lin Qiushi. "He seems to like you a lot too."

Lin Qiushi, "what, and he doesn't like you?"

Cheng Qianli giggled, "hehehe true that, 'cause I'm adorable."

Lin Qiushi thought oh, you're really just shameless.

During the time of Ruan Nanzhu's convalescence, many people from other organizations came to visit. Well, they said visit. "To gather information" was more accurate. After all, a ten-door top honcho like Ruan Nanzhu was a rare sight to see.

White Deer's Li Dongyuan came by without any sense of shame as well. Though Ruan Nanzhu agreed to let him in, Ruan Nanzhu didn't spare him any kind looks the entire time.

Lin Qiushi was seated by Ruan Nanzhu's bedside, peeling lychees for him to eat. He'd part his mouth ever-so-slightly for the milky fruit to pass between his pale lips. Then, after some neat chewing, he'd open his mouth again and Lin Qiushi would bring the plate over to catch the black seed his tongue pushed out out.

This entire eating process was exceedingly elegant. Watching Ruan Nanzhu, Lin Qiushi suddenly understood what Tan Zaozao had meant when she said beautiful people ought to eat lychee.

Li Dongyuan sat just beside him, all friendly grins on that baby face of his. He really was very different outside the door. He said, "Nanzhu ah…"

Ruan Nanzhu shot him a glare from out the corner of his eyes.

So Li Dongyuan could only change his tune: "Ruan-ge, Ruan-ge, are you doing well?"

Ruan Nanzhu, "you can't see for yourself? Say what you came to say."

Li Dongyuan turned and glanced at Lin Qiushi.

Ruan Nanzhu understood his meaning, gaze shuttering.

"No need to keep it from him."

Li Dongyuan, "I'm going into my ninth door soon, so you know, is there…"

Ruan Nanzhu, "no. Get out."

Li Dongyuan, "…"

Lin Qiushi wanted to laugh, but thought it'd be inappropriate. So he kept his head down and pretended to be very seriously peeling lychee.

"Don't be so mean." Li Dongyuan had begun to pout. "I'm not even holding it against you, you know, the time when you pretended to be my lover Zhu Meng."

With those big watery eyes of his, Lin Qiushi was reminded of Cheng Qianli's husky…

But Ruan Nanzhu had a heart of steel and was utterly unmoved. He didn't even appear shocked when Li Dongyuan called out his identity like that.

"Don't waste my time. Talk business."

Li Dongyuan, "I heard you had a hint for the ninth door though…"

Ruan Nanzhu's lips moved into something that wasn't quite a smile.

"Heard?"

Li Dongyuan, "fuck man, I really did! They're all saying it."

It was at this point that Lin Qiushi suddenly recalled that Ruan Nanzhu had already passed his tenth door. Didn't that mean he likely already had a hint to the eleventh door? What could it be like? Was there something different about it than all the other doors?

"So?" Ruan Nanzhu stared at him.

"So, will you sell me the hint?" Li Dongyuan finally said what brought him here today.

Ruan Nanzhu turned him down without any hesitation: "No way."

Li Dongyuan, "name any price, as long as I can afford it—"

Hints to the ninth door were too scarce; even he hadn't been able to obtain one.

Only Ruan Nanzhu, the crazy bastard, could get his hands on two.

Ruan Nanzhu ate the lychee fed to him. Didn't answer.

Seeing Ruan Nanzhu's attitude, Li Dongyuan became a bit agitated. He said, "thirteen days from now is my limit before going in, I don't have that much time."

Ruan Nanzhu, "weren't you having a great time jacking my customers? Telling them I got here on looks alone?" His lips were smiling but his eyes were cold. "And now you’ve learned to beg me?"

Li Dongyuan began to awkwardly laugh.

"My bad, my bad. Here, how about I service you for a night and you be the bigger person and forget all about it?"

Ruan Nanzhu pointed at the door.

"Get out."

Li Dongyuan looked aggrieved.

Lin Qiushi thought, you're really going overboard. You want the hint, fine, but you also want to take advantage of our boss? You totally deserve to get kicked out.

"I can give you a hint to the ninth door," Ruan Nanzhu said, "but I have a condition."

Li Dongyuan, "what condition?"

Ruan Nanzhu, "you go into the tenth door with him."

At this, Li Dongyuan startled. He glanced at Lin Qiushi.

"You're not…"

Ruan Nanzhu, "I am."

Li Dongyuan's expression changed immediately.

"Are you insane?!"

Ruan Nanzhu was already testy.

"Agree or get out, don't sit here wasting my time."

Li Dongyuan continued to look stormy, but in the end bit the bullet and agreed to go into the tenth door with Lin Qiushi. Judging from his face though, there was more that he wanted to say, but refrained since Lin Qiushi was still present.

Lin Qiushi stood up and said he was going to go wash his hands.

Ruan Nanzhu didn't stop him this time.

But when Lin Qiushi came back from the bathroom, he heard Ruan Nanzhu and Li Dongyuan arguing. Li Dongyuan stood no chance against Ruan Nanzhu though, and ended up slamming his way out the door in a fit of anger. When he spotted Lin Qiushi, he even shot Lin Qiushi a glare.

As Lin Qiushi stood baffled by this glare, Li Dongyuan spoke: "Watch out for yourself then! If Zhu Meng whips it out it'll definitely be bigger than yours!"

Lin Qiushi, "…" I already know he's bigger than me, don't need the reminder thanks.

He returned to the room and saw Ruan Nanzhu sitting expressionless on the bed. So he said, "what got you two arguing all of a sudden?"

Ruan Nanzhu scoffed, "someone wanted to make all these accusations about me. He thinks he's worthy?"

Lin Qiushi, "you're still not feeling well, don't be angry." Then, warmly, "what do you want to eat tonight?"

Ruan Nanzhu leaned against the bed.

"Porridge. Made by you."

Lin Qiushi didn't take Li Dongyuan storming off that day to heart because he thought, between Li Dongyuan and them, there would still be time for all sorts of stories, whether good or bad. But Lin Qiushi didn't imagine that that day would be the last time he'd ever see Li Dongyuan.

The morning thirteen days later, Ruan Nanzhu, who was out of the hospital, received a phone call. Everybody in the mansion was gathered for breakfast. After he hung up, his expression went blank for just a moment. And then he opened his mouth and said, "Li Dongyuan is dead."

The chattering crowd suddenly went quiet. Everybody heard what Ruan Nanzhu said.

First chewing on a bun, Cheng Qianli also stopped.

"Ah," he said, then asked what everybody was wanting to ask, "Ruan-ge, what are you saying… Li Dongyuan, as in White Deer's Li Dongyuan?"

Ruan Nanzhu made a noise of confirmation and stood.

"I have to head over."

Lin Qiushi said, "I'll go with you."

Though Ruan Nanzhu was out of the hospital, he had yet to fully heal; even now, there was a pallor to his face. Lin Qiushi worried that if anything happened to Ruan Nanzhu out there, his body wouldn't be able to take it.

"Okay," Ruan Nanzhu agreed to Lin Qiushi's accompaniment.

Lin Qiushi quickly changed and got into the car with Ruan Nanzhu.

After announcing a destination, Ruan Nanzhu sat in the passenger's seat with his eyes shut to rest. His face was pale, and with his long, raven-dark lashes lightly fluttering, he had, in the air about him, a touch of fragility. But this fragility seemed just as likely to be Lin Qiushi's imagination.

Was Ruan Nanzhu grieving? No. Lin Qiushi thought the upset he emanated was more like commiseration. The fox mourning for the dead rabbit.[1] Ruan Nanzhu hated Li Dongyuan, but hardly wanted Li Dongyuan to just die like this—because seeing this happen to Li Dongyuan, it was difficult not to think of it happening to themselves.

Lin Qiushi remembered that last time he saw Li Dongyuan, a bit over ten days ago, and he exhaled for a long while, as if he wanted to breathe out that entire mass of smothering air in his chest.

After a forty-minute drive, they came to an apartment building in the city.

Lin Qiushi first thought that White Deer was headquartered in one of the apartments. Only after they arrived did he learn that White Deer had bought out the entire building.

There were many people gathered out front. Lin Qiushi had a bad feeling when he saw this. After he parked, they went over to the gathered crowd and saw, unsurprisingly, what everyone was surrounding.

A body, smashed to smithereens. Its face could no longer be made out, but from its clothing and general appearance, this fallen corpse was recognizably Li Dongyuan.

This wasn't Lin Qiushi's first time seeing a dead body in real life, but this was the first time someone familiar to them was just dead like this. He glanced to his side at Ruan Nanzhu. Ruan Nanzhu still maintained his placid expression—only, there was a teeming light in those dark eyes of his, like the tossing of fathomless lakes.

A woman's cries started. A teenage girl burst out from the crowd, fell to her knees beside Li Dongyuan's corpse, and began to wail. She even tried to gather Li Dongyuan's tattered body into her arms.

Those around the girl stopped her, and pulled her away from Li Dongyuan's body by force.

Lin Qiushi looked around them, and found some people quietly whispering, some people looking on with numb eyes and pained expressions. These ought to be the members of White Deer.

A beautiful woman approached Ruan Nanzhu, and spoke lowly to him, "Mr. Ruan, hello."

"Hello Ms. Jin," Ruan Nanzhu said.

"Call me by name, Jin Yurui." The woman seemed to want to smile at Ruan Nanzhu, but it came out stiff. The corners of her mouth made their way up by force, and looked very laborious. "From now on, I'll be taking over White Deer's internal affairs."

Reading between the lines, she was to be White Deer's next leader.

"Mh." Ruan Nanzhu nodded his understanding. Then, after some silence, he suddenly added, "you don't have to smile if you don't want to."

Jin Yurui's smile immediately faded. She took a deep breath, as if to get a grip on her emotions. Then, hoarsely, she spoke: "Come inside, Mr. Ruan."

Ruan Nanzhu nodded and headed for the apartment, Lin Qiushi behind him.

In the lobby of the apartment building stood six people. Plus those outside, White Deer likely had about twenty or so members.

Jin Yurui began to announce the things Li Dongyuan had already prepared before death. The whole process went by quietly.

But in this quiet, Lin Qiushi sensed a surging undercurrent. In the group, some didn't seem pleased with Jin Yurui as the successor. However, when their gazes fell on Ruan Nanzhu, they seemed surprisingly wary of this outsider.

Lin Qiushi suddenly understood why Ruan Nanzhu came. He was here to quell one last upset for Li Dongyuan.

Jin Yurui was now White Deer's next leader. She had just passed her eighth door, and there was still some time before her ninth.

But clearly, White Deer's members weren't as satisfied with her as they had been with Li Dongyuan.

Ruan Nanzhu had certainly noticed as well. But he wasn't planning on interfering with White Deer's matters, and so only sat silently to the side.

Lin Qiushi watched his awful pallor and thought he must be uncomfortable by now. Concerned, Lin Qiushi thought for a bit. Then he pulled out a piece of candy and snuck it into Ruan Nanzhu's hand.

Ruan Nanzhu glanced back at him momentarily, before nodding lightly. He unwrapped the candy, and slowly placed it in his mouth.

The flavor of the candy was sweet, and washed away a certain sense of discomfort. Ruan Nanzhu sat in that lobby for a long time, until Jin Yurui was finished delegating matters.

The group in the lobby began to disperse. In the end, the three of them were left.

Jin Yurui looked up with a pained smile. "Thank you Mr. Ruan. If you hadn't been here, I don't know what I would've done."

Ruan Nanzhu stood, and said, "I can only do this much. The rest of the road you have to walk on your own."

Jin Yurui nodded. She was no fragile flower on tendrils; though faced with the winds she swayed a bit, in the end, she would withstand the storm herself.

"We'll be off then," Ruan Nanzhu said.

"Mr. Ruan won't stay for dinner?" Jin Yurui asked politely.

"No thank you." Ruan Nanzhu declined the sentiment, and said, "I'll come again after he's been buried."

Jin Yurui didn't force the matter either, nodding and showing Ruan Nanzhu and Lin Qiushi to the door.

Li Dongyuan's corpse had already been cleaned up. Only a bloodstain on the ground was left to tell the world what had transpired here.

In a few days, this stain would be gone as well. At White Deer, people came and went. Perhaps they would all very soon forget that there had ever been a leader named Li Dongyuan.

The entire way here, Ruan Nanzhu didn't look well.

It was only on their way back, sitting in the driver's seat, that Lin Qiushi noticed something was wrong. He asked, "Nanzhu, are your wounds okay?"

He could faintly smell blood in the air. At first, Lin Qiushi had thought it was because of Lin Qiushi. But even now Lin Qiushi could smell it.

"I'm fine." Ruan Nanzhu was leaning tilted against the door.

Lin Qiushi didn't believe he was fine at all, and frowned.

"Let me take a look."

Ruan Nanzhu, "no."

Lin Qiushi startled. He didn't think Ruan Nanzhu would refuse him so plainly.

"Let's go home first," Ruan Nanzhu said. Immediately after, his eyes drifted shut in apparent exhaustion.

Worried, Lin Qiushi couldn't help but drive a bit faster.

Some tens of minutes later, they got back to the mansion, and Ruan Nanzhu finally dragged his eyes open. Lin Qiushi quickly took hold of him and helped him inside. Once he was in bed, Lin Qiushi very naturally sat down beside him, taking a corner of Ruan Nanzhu's shirt in hand.

Ruan Nanzhu glanced up at him.

"What are you doing?"

Lin Qiushi, "I'm taking a look at your back…"

The wounds were the worst on Ruan Nanzhu's back.

Tilting his head to the side, Ruan Nanzhu kept eyeing Lin Qiushi.

"Can you not look?"

Lin Qiushi frowned.

"No."

He thought that Ruan Nanzhu's wounds had for sure reopened.

Ruan Nanzhu gave this some thought.

"Then give me a piece of candy."

Lin Qiushi fished out a piece of candy, unwrapped it, and popped it in Ruan Nanzhu's mouth.

"Go ahead," Ruan Nanzhu mumbled around the candy. "There’s not much to see really…"

Lin Qiushi lifted Ruan Nanzhu's shirt and unsurprisingly, he found the wounds reopened. Blood trickled down his back and seeped into his clothing.

Brows furrowed, Lin Qiushi, "this isn't good. We have to go to the hospital."

Ruan Nanzhu stopped moving, his breaths evening out.

Glancing up, Lin Qiushi sighed.

"And now you're faking sleep?"

Ruan Nanzhu still wasn't talking.

Exasperated, Lin Qiushi could only get up to go grab some gauze. As he cleaned simply around Ruan Nanzhu's wounds, he was still nagging, "we have to go to the hospital tomorrow morning."

With a vague sound of acknowledgement, Ruan Nanzhu once again closed his eyes. He really was a bit tired, and wanted to get some actual rest.

Author's Note:

The feelings are here, is it exciting enough /author proudly puffs up her chest

Translator’s Note:

“The fox mourning for the dead rabbit” / 兔死狐悲 (tù sǐ hú bēi). This is a direct translation of the chengyu. Both the rabbit and the fox are prey of the hunter, so the fox mourns the dead rabbit as it fears for its own fate. Translating chengyu is fun, because sometimes it requires sacrificing the imagery to convey the meaning concisely, or sometimes you can choose to put both.

[Ch. 77] | [Ch. 79]

#kaleidoscope of death #xi zixu #cnovel #chinese translation #死亡萬花筒 #YAAAYYYYY I'VE LINKED IT #now if you'll excuse me #i'm gonna finish hako onna #and #keep skipping the rest of the statue door sdjfnksjdnfksdf #i mean it's fine i'm sure i'll get back around to it but #:))) #and you know i love my son

[nanyoky]

@essayofthoughts asked for:

"Perc'ahlia babe and also Vaxleth and Pikelan"

Mwahahaha...

Perc'ahlia:

Who’s the messiest one: I mean it depends. Cuz Percy has a place for every little thing. But when he's mid project it tends to turn into organized chaos. Vex may occasionally leave things lying around if she's tired or distracted.

Who feels the most uncomfortable about PDA: definitely Percy, but it's less uncomfortable and more "easily flustered." Like it's just something he's accepted. Vex gunna smooch. Percy gunna blush.

Who’s the funniest drunk: Percy. Cuz he has the same attitude, but he's struggling to take off his socks for bed like "what a- a- idiotic invenshuhh..... Fucking.... Stuplid..... Imma make em better... Make... Sock....better...." While Vex is equally drunk but still doing her four step skincare routine like "yes dear"

Who texts the most: probably Vex. Anything between conversational back and forth, long rambling but deep trains of thought and "LOOK AT THIS DOG I MET"

Who has the most embarrassing taste in music: hmm probably Percy but only in like a "parody of himself" kinda way. Nothing but a mix of chamber orchestra and emo music. Which aren't all that bad on their own, but he is a hashtag Byronic Posh Boi and so of COURSE that's all he listens to. Vex has cool(tm) tastes in music. Even if a song or artist wasn't cool (tm) before, it becomes cool(tm) once she likes it.

Who reads the most: I mean Percy. Not that Vex doesn't read, but he big nerd.

Who’s better with kids: ooo boy that's A QUESTION for some canonical parents, huh? I'm going to say Percy, just because I feel like Vex is a parent who can get overwhelmed sometimes and not know how to handle needy kids when she's running on empty (feel like I should say this does not make a person a bad parent- just that as a kid it's hard to understand that adults get tired). Meanwhile Percy has a natural tone that suggests what he's saying is fact, so if he's too tired for high energy toddlers he's just like "sitting by the fire drinking tea is a very fun game" and the bbs just climb into his lap like "you're right being quiet and snuggly is very fun" while Vex watches like "HOW."

Who’s the one that fixes things around the house: Percy's a good good tinker boi

Who’s got the weirdest hobby: listen one of them invented firearms and the other has a pet bear it's a toss up.

Who cooks and who cleans up: Both are what you might call... Functional cooks. Nothing to write home about, but they get the job done. But Percy excels more at baking (structured, exacting) and Vex is better at more loosely defined things like soups and sauces. Cleaning up is a duo activity and a nice part of their evening wind down.

Vaxleth:

Who’s the messiest one: deffo Keyleth. Houston we have a hoarder. She gets emotionally attached to everything, and saves up little bits and bobs of things for crafting and home diy projects all the time.

Who feels the most uncomfortable about PDA: probably Keyleth, but it's in like- the most Social Anxiety way possible. It's not so much that she's uncomfortable, it's that she gets worried that being snuggly or kissing will make others uncomfortable.

Who’s the funniest drunk: oh that's a hard one. Cuz we've seen them both be high quality drunks, (ie day drinking queen and "heterosexuality is fake and magic is just the fucking best????????"). I'd say Vax because I feel like he's more likely to insist he's not that drunk and doesn't need anyone to look after him, and therefore will get into more shananigans/flirt more

Who texts the most: another toughie. Probably Vax, in a similar style to Vex.

Who has the most embarrassing taste in music: they both have the same issue as Percy, in that their tastes are just a parody of themselves. Vax has three categories of favorite music: sad emo boy, sexy alt boy, and rebellious 90s girl. And then Keyleth is just unironically into the softest cheesiest music you've ever heard on the soundtrack to a chick flick. We're talking Jewel here, folks. Also retro oldies cuz Homeschooled Vibes. I'm going to say Vax tho, cuz he's the one who gets emotional about it, while Keyleth is just a casual listener. And he listens to more of her music than she does his. She'll send him the Live at the Troubadour recording of Kelly Clarkson's Sober and he responds back like "??? Why would you send me this??? At 10am on a Tuesday??? When I have things to do??? Now I'm crying on the bus?????" And she's just "glad you liked it! :D"

Who reads the most: probably Vax. He gets deep into reading in attempts to find less self destructive ways of getting out of his head.

Who’s better with kids: hm I'm gunna say Vax on this one because Keyleth has a tendency to try too hard with everyone and was also an only child who was forced into very structured time while growing up cuz expectations. Vax has more clear memories of actually just being a kid when the twins were with their mom, so he can relate easier. That being said they're both pretty good, as we see with that kid Simon, a scene that will HAUNT ME FOREVER.

Who’s the one that fixes things around the house: def keyleth. DIY queen. Vax just gets frustrated and is like "let's just buy a new one"

Who’s got the weirdest hobby: hmmm. Keyleth has A LOT of hobbies, but Vax def will do parkour, just cuz. Like he may have started back when he was still kind of a criminal, but now he doesn't have a practical excuse and he doesn't even like- record it or anything so there's no point to it. He just sees urban environments and goes "gotta jump. Gotta climb. Just gotta."

Who cooks and who cleans up: Keyleth has got prep on lock. Gardening. Hunting and trapping. Gathering. Cleaning and dressing and chopping. She's got this. It's adding fire to things where she starts having trouble. Vax picks things up from there just fine though, and covers dishes and such on the back end.

Pikelan:

Who’s the messiest one: Pike. Pike. Pike. Having a perma-home at last means she gets comfy, which means you can usually not see the bedroom floor. Scanlan is scandalized.

Who’s the one that fixes things around the house: Scanlan tries. He likes the idea of being helpful with domestic stuff and not just a goofus who's just around for the fun parts of being together. Unfortunately he's never really lived anywhere long enough to get good at household repair, and it takes him way too long to do anything. Pike is pretty handy, but gets so busy that she'll just put up with something being broken for weeks. Best case scenario is Pike shows Scanlan how to do something so the next time he can do it himself and feel accomplished and she can come home to things being fixed and give him smooches and coo over him being a handyman.

Who's the funniest drunk? Pike. "I'M TRYING TO STEALTH."

Who feels the most uncomfortable about PDA: it may shock people, but Scanlan has the same "once it's serious I get bashful" disease as Vax. Pike will absolutely give his bootie a tap in line at the grocery store and he just goes bright red. He tries to laugh it off like he's still the smarmy mess everyone knows, but she teases him endlessly about it.

Who texts the most: Scanlan is an absolute "good morning," "thinking of you," "how was your day," and "goodnight" text person before they live together. After they move in together it's just text versions of his cover songs about his love for her and dank memes.

Who has the most embarrassing taste in music: we know it's Scanlan. We've heard his cover tracks. Pike has similar cool(tm) tastes as Vex.

Who reads the most: Pike is probably someone who's always on the move, so she's more an audiobook person. But Scanlan is like fully ready for the dad life. Just loving any weekend where he does nothing but sit around in flannel pj pants reading a mystery paperback.

Who’s better with kids: It's a hard one. Scanlan second guesses himself quite a bit and worries every little thing he says or does is going to become Lasting Trauma. Pike acts more chill about it, but slowly gets more and more overwhelmed until she nearly has a nervous collapse. But their opposite styles work well together and they're able to be a pretty great team.

Who’s got the weirdest hobby: I feel like Pike is someone with a weird collection. It is either something a little spooky but cool and academic, like antique medical equipment, or something horrifyingly tacky, like a thong from every city she visits. Maybe both.

Who cooks and who cleans up: this is where Scanlan is a much quicker learner about domestic stuff. Pike is a good cook, but it's usually on the move so much she doesn't have the time for meal planning and prep. Scanlan absolutely throws himself into being a house husband and gets obsessed with cooking shows. Pike insists on helping with dishes tho.

#do it for the meme #I'm so bad at doing these in a timely manner #critical role #vox machina #perc'ahlia #vaxleth #pikelan #percival fredrickstein von musel de rolo iii #vex'ahlia #vax'ildan #keyleth #Pike trickfoot #scanlan shorthalt

[nightklok]

Title: 'Cause I've been hurt so many times, I need someone who will try to soothe me, and not use me Pairing: Abigail Remeltindtdrinc/Pickles the Drummer Rating: E (For one future smut scene but chapter one is T-rated) Tags: Fake dating, Additional tags on AO3 Summary: Abigail considers herself great at her job; she knows how to make a successful album and her track record shows it. Dethklok proved to be the biggest challenge yet but she learned to overcome any hurdle thrown her way. However, what she didn’t anticipate was Seth’s second wedding. Specifically, Pickles’ mother getting on his case about finding a date to the wedding. Logically, she decides to be his fake date for the wedding. Just fake a relationship for a few months until the wedding then 'mutually' break it off; should be easy enough. It’s just the most renowned music producer and most popular musician fake dating. Surely no feelings or trouble will rise out of this.

Chapter One on Ao3 Here! Chapter one is also under the cut

Abigail had learned quickly that working with Dethklok was oftentimes like walking through those Halloween hay mazes blindfolded. Years upon years of working with pretentious celebrities, tight deadlines, and challenges that were thrown her way would never prepare her for working with them. For a group of five who lived together and knew each other the best, it didn’t always mean that they thought the same way and one would think they finally learned what worked best for them after years of working. But for some reason, they continuously went with the same method that never worked out because it seemed like the best to them. And clearly, it wasn’t.

She was no stranger to challenges so when Dethklok proved to be one, she did her usual process of breaking through to them. And that was asking questions to the right people. Charles stated it was just how they were. Knubbler said they were a bunch of dumb jackoffs so she had to hold the least amount of expectations for them...and lower it. Melmord had offered her weed because it would be the only way she could ever handle working with them. Twinkletits had suggested unresolved trauma and perhaps banana stickers would solve it.

She would find soon enough that everyone was right in their own suggestions but it didn’t mean she followed through with any of them. It didn’t take long to figure out that scheduling private sessions with each individual band member was a lot better compared to them being together only to yell at each other. Within a few days of the focus being more on private sessions, the difference being made was incredible. They seemed to thrive better under one-on-one time and having the group meetings at the end of the day so they could go over their progress had helped incredibly.

The only problem that she couldn’t solve was their old habits. Most of the time the sessions were either forgotten or recordings had to take a week or longer just to make sure the sound was perfect. They were still five people with different ideas of how the album could be better; it would be hard to find common ground and even harder to get them to be responsible under her schedule.

It didn’t mean every member was a thorn in her side though. Pickles and Skwisgaar were some of the more responsible ones compared to the rest. They’d sometimes forget to show up but that was expected.

Skwisgaar did have a certain way of speaking about music she couldn’t quite understand but she found herself slowly understanding him the more they recorded his sessions. It became like learning a new language but less on the fun part. Luckily, he was never one to speak much regardless; music did the talking for him and that was a good enough language for them to understand.

And Pickles, despite his years of experience under the spotlight, wasn’t the pretentious celebrity she expected him to be when they recorded together. He did his work without much complaint, left when she was satisfied and his first-week recording for a song would be the last as there generally wasn’t much left for him to retake. He normally trusted her judgment and any criticisms offered were never given for the sake of belittling her. It came from a place of experience and knowledge and it became something she quickly respected him for. He still occasionally missed his recordings, however, but with how time felt so rapid in getting things in order, she didn’t notice he actually began showing up more often.

He couldn’t show up one day due to a last-minute scheduling conflict that day and since he had a valid excuse, she didn’t expect him to show up at all. Deciding to not let those hours go to waste, she spent it contacting Knubbler for a quick meeting. He sent her the tracks he finished for her to listen to and she offered her critique. They were tossing track after track at one another to see what sticks and eventually something did. After sending him the latest track to fix-up by the end of their meeting, she checked her email to go more into the boring parts of her job.

She loved her job without a doubt but it didn’t mean there were some parts she actually dreaded doing. Emails were one of them; business language, having to wait up to a day for a response, and everything else just to show she was a professional despite her name being tied to so many influential things. Maybe she was famous enough to sign off her emails with a ‘k thx’ but didn't quite know if it was even worth the impending backlash soon after. She was known for her professionalism, not lack of.

But the album wouldn’t be finished for quite a while so she simply had to make do with what she could. Regardless, the marketing director wanted to listen to one of the demo songs. The day was winding down, she just had to spend an extra hour or two in the recording studio, then she could grab food, take a long bath and watch a movie until she fell asleep.

The motivation of food and a chance to relax was enough to look through her emails once more as she played the finished track. She didn’t hear the knock on the door but she did hear the door opening but didn’t turn around. She had expected it to be a klokateer doing some late cleaning.

“Abigail?” A voice all too familiar filled the silence. As she turned around, Pickles closed the door behind him quietly as if to not disturb her (even though he already did). He seemed a bit sheepish as he put his hands in his pockets to play off a calm attitude, “I just wanted to know if you still needed me.”

“Well, it’s not the first time you didn’t show up to a session, Pickles.” She answered a little too bluntly. It came off harsher and she had almost expected him to be offended by it but he shrugged instead, “Charles told me you wouldn’t have been able to come today, anyway.”

“Okay, yeah, that’s true I have bailed out on a few sessions, but I was planning on showing up to today’s session. I promise.”

She folded her arms, leaning back against the chair. It was new territory having Pickles actually show up when he wasn’t meant to. It didn’t seem like he was there for anything else too, “And you really mean that?”

He casually held up his right hand in a three-finger salute, “Scout’s honor...if I was a Boy Scout, that is.  But I’m here now. That should be enough proof, right?” He grinned at her before he walked to the recording booth, “I got this beat stuck in my head I wanna get out of my system. Won’t take too much of your time.”

She glanced at the clock; it was still early enough to record a few takes and he did seem excited to record. Might as well give some time to humor him, “Alright, you get one hour to impress me.”

“I’ll make it count,” He finished her sentence as he closed the door. Taking the drumsticks and headphones, he took a seat in front of the drum kit and quickly prepared, “This is for uhhh...what did we call 8?”

“ Uncensor My Songs On The Radio You Fucking Tool. ”

“Yeah, that’s it! Anyway, I think I figured out why it doesn’t fit on my end. Can you play from the beginning?”

“Sure, get ready in five seconds” It took just a few clicks to get to the song he wanted. She let the metronome play for just a few seconds for him to get the beat before hitting the record button as soon as the song played.

As soon as the song played, Pickles began without hesitation. The sound was much different compared to his other takes...and it fit perfectly as he had said. She waited though; listened to every hit and snare intensely for a mistake to come and screw his take over. But that moment never happened and before she knew it the song was over.

“How did I do?” He grinned at her as he wiped his sweaty forehead with his arm, “Not bad for one take, right?”

Impressive. “Not bad at all. I think this might be just the parts we needed to get the song to be finally done,” She answered as she hit the record button to pause the recording. She made sure to save the file and backed up the file into her work email. (Charles had requested she make backup copies of each recording without the boys’ knowledge when she began working. Just in case).

She watched as Pickles removed his headphones but quickly stopped him, “It’s great but I think another take would be good to have, right?”

“Oh C’mon! Isn’t it great as it is?!” He pleaded. He was foolish to think he could impress her with just one take.

“I’m not denying that it’s great but I’m sure you would be able to do another take if you got it all memorized, right?” She answered. The tone of her voice just shifted slightly enough to indicate a challenge and that’s all that Pickles needed to hear from her.

“Don’t think I can do it, huh?” He smiled back at her as he put the headphones back on.  It was a challenge he could easily win, after all, but she was never one to even let him believe it would be easy. The rush of it and the feeling of adrenaline starting to kick in made it all the more tempting,  “Well get the song playing again. I won’t stop until you’re satisfied.”

“You’re gonna end up tiring yourself out, Pickles.”

“You can let me off the hook then if you’re so worried about me.” He answered with the signature lopsided grin he gave out as freely as sweets, “I think there are some restaurants around that we can go to if you still haven’t eaten yet.”

Bargaining and banter had become something that they learned to communicate with. If there was anyone else in the room, there was no way she would be talking so loosely with him. They were alone however and would be for a long time so it became easier to shake off the layer of professionalism she had to keep up with all day. However, the remaining part of her brain that was still in work mode rejected his offer despite the temptation being far too great, “Not a chance; you walked yourself into this one...But if you wow me just early enough, I might take you up on your offer.”

“Get the song playing again and tell me when to stop.”

The truth was she was already satisfied by the third take but she did let him keep going at least two more times for good measure. By the time she said he was finished, Pickles’ legs were sore but it was nothing he wasn’t used to. Five takes weren’t bad at all and he found himself confident in the progress.

“Not bad, Pickles. I think there’s something there I can take for the recording.” Abigail answered with a grin that he tiredly returned.

“Hm, not satisfied yet, or just wanna keep my ego down?”

“Maybe.” She watched him put the headphones and drumsticks away before exiting the recording studio.

“I wanna hear it though. Play the best track.” He went to the mini-fridge and offered her a beer which she declined.

“Just get me a coke. The drink, I mean. I’ll play the best track in a second,” She had already labeled the track files by a number scale and taken notes so she didn’t need to relisten. He set the can of coke beside her as he watched her take a few moments to look through the notes before finally deciding on the best track. She quickly spliced it in with the demo and hit play.

Pickles already flopped on the couch, on his second can of beer already somehow (She didn’t know if it was impressive or horrifying). He didn’t say anything while the song played, leaned back against the couch. When it ended he asked, “Is that the best one?”

“Well, I think it is. It’s the one that doesn’t even need much editing. The others are just as great too, in all honesty,” She answered as she checked her notes briefly. She could go into great detail over the tracks, maybe even explain why the tracks were a perfect fit for a song but she didn’t want to ramble. And besides, he seemed a little bit bothered, “But what do you think?”

“Hm. Not as good as I thought it would be,” He said a little sullenly, “Nate’s gonna wanna delete it. I just know it.”

“Are you sure?  I don’t think he’d want you to delete them especially when he knows you’re having a hard time with this song. They’re all pretty good but if you want to talk with Knubbler since he’ll be doing most of the editing, just give him a call tomorrow.”

“Do you even think it’s good?”

“Of course. If I wasn’t satisfied enough, I would’ve had you still record a few more takes.”

That was an answer that seemed to satisfy him at least as he didn’t say anything else in retaliation. He only asked to play the track again, and finished his second can of beer, “I guess if you think it’s fine, I’ll take your word for it. It’s probably getting late isn’t it?”

“Come in tomorrow and you can listen to it again. If you really aren’t satisfied with it, you can try again,” She offered. She checked at her watch briefly; 10:45 PM. How has it been almost two hours already?

“Yeah, I think that sounds like a plan. We can put a stop to it for now. But uh, sorry for wasting your time.”

She shrugged, “You’re not, Pickles. Don’t worry about it. I would’ve left around this time anyway.”

“Okay, if you say so.” With a shrug, he shifted his mood and stood up. He didn’t seem to sulk longer than he usually did, probably because it was already late and they were both tired, “Did you still wanna eat?”

“Don’t you usually eat with your bandmates?” Usually, mealtimes were the quickest and easiest ways to find them if she needed to. Having memorized that schedule, she knew that dinner was about a few hours ago...or a few hours from now depending on what they did that day.

“Yeah but not today; Offdensen really had us doing interviews all fuckin’ day. I don’t think I’ve eaten lunch yet and I guess you didn’t get dinner either?”

“Nope. I was planning to, anyway.” A late dinner invitation was not rare to get but it was rarer to get one by someone she wouldn’t mind having dinner with. Their relationship with each other was always professional, and he also had years of experience in the music business outside Dethklok. It always felt refreshing to talk to someone who shared the same interests as her. She put her laptop away in her briefcase once she saved all her files; her night was officially done, “Is there someone even able to make dinner at this time?”

“There should be. If not, there are probably leftovers in the fridge. Or we can order pizza, it’s completely your call.”

She slung the briefcase over her shoulder, following him to the hallway. After shutting and locking the door to the recording studio (Charles gave the only keys to her and Knubbler), she walked with him to the kitchen where the conversation of dinner slowly shifted to music and almost anything they could cram in the next two hours.

And by the end of that night, the late dinner invitations became frequent and she had accepted every single one. He always hung around by her last hour of work, even if it meant staying up late. It only meant ordering food to be delivered to them as Pickles convinced her to watch a film she hadn’t seen in years or her convincing him to watch one of her favorite guilty pleasure sitcoms.

For the most part, it was assumed she was just working with him on the album. No one really needed to know about the breaks where they shared a beer and gossiped about the celebrities they had interacted with before. As far as Knubbler and everyone knew, she was using most of the two hours to perfect his recording.

But just a few months later, the hangouts and late-night dinner invitations stopped in their tracks with no warning whatsoever.

She wondered at first if it was something she had done. But then it began affecting his work and it was clear he was distracted about something. She knew and learned enough about him that he was a perfectionist when it came to the drums; he was always a person who wanted to do his job correctly when it came to something he really did care about at the end of the day. Music was his passion, after all. And if he didn’t have passion for the things he cared about the most, then something was going on.

“Do you want to take a break, Pickles?” She asked. It was currently her fifth time asking the same question that week alone.

“No, it’s fine. Let’s keep going.” He answered as he picked up his drums and waited for her to press record.

She didn’t say anything else after that and she let him leave after a few hours. He left before she could get a word out and she would be met with the rising feeling that something bad was about to happen and recordings that not even Knubbler could salvage.

A few days later, she figured out what happened. It took a text from the staff group chat and an email that contained a video to piece the puzzle together.

“Hey, Neon Genesis Evan gail ion. It’s me, your coworker, Seth.”

She did not watch the rest of the video (sober) and instead asked about the video in the group chat. Seth was never invited to the chat for the same reason Melmord was not invited to the second wedding of Seth and whatever poor woman he got roped up with.

Just by that video and conversation, she had connected why Pickles might be upset. It had something to do with the wedding, sure, but what specifically about it? Was it that he had known the girl Seth planned to marry? She wanted to ask so many questions but limited herself to three. But even those three questions were quickly narrowed down to one, then none at all when she realized it would be harder to pry anything out of him.

But, as advised by Knubbler, it was best to keep going. He’d probably breakthrough midway through a recording session. Being someone who knew to listen to others, she listened to his advice for at least a few more days.

She waited those few days and then two more. It was clear whatever was bothering him was still going to continue bothering him until the end of time probably. She had to talk to him against their better judgments; it felt like the only option available to her.

It was a session that lasted over seven hours and she was sure both of them were getting frustrated on their own ends. No amount of coffee or whiskey could even cure the boredom and annoyance that was of a session that would lead to nowhere. It was better to just cut things short and talk about it. If not even the drums could help him feel better, how serious was the situation?

She pressed the intercom button when the song finished and she immediately hit delete. There was no way to salvage the song, “Pickles, would you mind if we talk?”

His expression was perplexed for a moment before he resigned to his fate, not giving much of a protest, “Alright,” he answered with a sigh. He set his drumsticks down as he walked out of the booth, taking a seat by the couch.

She was never all that good at talking to people about feelings in all honesty. And he seemed like a rather emotional guy, to begin with. There were a few moments of awkward silence between them as she tried to find what a good way to start the conversation would be, “I think we know that you seem distracted lately. What’s been bothering you?”

And despite all her mental preparations that he would find it hard to pry open, he actually opened up quite honestly, “Well you know about the wedding right?”

“Yeah, he invited me too.” She answered as she thought back to the weird video message Seth had sent her. She wondered if she should even make a comment about that but decided against it, “You don’t want him to get married or something?”

“I don’t care about that. He could get married as many times as he wants; He’s still getting a fucking Vitamix.  But it’s not about that,” He answered, “It’s my mom. She’s been blowing up my phone all week asking about who I’m bringing with me to Seth’s wedding. Keeps talking about how I should settle down, find someone to marry, or whatever. But I don’t have the time to date!”

She stared at him and didn’t say a single word until he caved in.

“Okay, time’s not the problem but dating while you’re this famous is fucking hard. You must’ve seen that public divorce in ‘89 right?”

She definitely remembered. She was on college radio at the time and had taken over someone’s show. It was either some debate or public opinion show and that was probably one of the more shows she had ever experienced. Did it help that she was a fan of his music back in the day? No, but she would not admit that “I kind of knew about it. It sounded like it was an awful divorce for you. But you were only nineteen, weren’t you? You shouldn't stop yourself from dating for something that happened when you were just a teen.”

“Nineteen, thirty-five, ninety, does it matter? It was as awful behind the scenes as it was in public. I’m not gonna bore you with that but basically, I’m done with dating. And she won’t see that!”

“Well...maybe one of your bandmates can be your date?” She offered.

“Nah, been there, done that, it didn’t work out. And plus, would you even fake date any of them?”

She thought for a moment, “Yeah, smart choice.”

“It’s gotta be someone she has never met before to make it more believable.”

“I see,” Abigail paused. She had waited, expecting almost, for Pickles to look at her, drop the ‘except…’, and plead for her to be his fake date but he didn’t. He only reached into the mini-fridge to pull out a beer, offering one to Abigail who accepted. She didn’t like the beer and had to hide her disgusted look as she took a sip and tried to set it down casually.

The conversation had died out like that. She kept on sipping the beer and hoping he would say something. But he didn’t and it became clear that she had to be the one to speak up. There was only one possible solution to it and it felt like the most obvious., “If you can’t find anyone else, I can be your date.” She offered.

Pickles looked at her like she had asked him to play the drums with his mouth, “I respect you too much to get you involved with my family. They’re like...leeches that suck the fuckin’ life out of you! This is a me problem, you don’t need to fix that. ”

“Well...it’s affecting your drumming too.” she pointed out as she looked at him, “And trust me, I know what I’m getting into. I can handle it, Pickles. I work for Dethklok and I’ve certainly been through a lot more than just a wedding party. I appreciate your concern, but let me help.”

“Abigail...” He almost pleaded.

“I owe you, remember?”

He clearly did remember, “but-”

“He invited me anyway, Pickles. I’m still going out of work obligations; I promise this won’t bother me at all.”

“But you know it’s gonna have to be a lot more than just going to my brother’s wedding right? My mom will want to meet you and who knows what other folks are gonna try and meet you too.”

That was one thing more terrifying than the branding ceremony. Was it even worth it to complete the album?, “Then basically we’d just be faking a relationship until the ceremony?”

“I guess yeah...and that’s...three months from now? You really don’t-”

“As I said, I know what I’m getting into. I want to help you and if we have to do this for a week, months, or a year, it’s okay with me.”

Pickles said nothing for the longest time. He held the half-empty can of beer, nulling over his options that probably didn’t help with him being slightly intoxicated, “You won’t hate me right?”

It caught her off guard almost but she remained on track, “Of course not. I promise,” If she hated him, that would mean there would be no more all-nighters together but she wouldn’t admit that.

“Okay. Just so you know you can back out of this anytime, I won’t be offended if you do.” He said finally and that had sealed the deal, “But we need to keep this a secret which I know is probably obvious enough. If the guys find out, they’ll never stop teasing us about it.”

“But if all we really need to do is just please your parents, I don’t think that will be a problem. Don’t worry about me, Pickles; it’ll be fine. I promise that I will back out if I don’t want to do this anymore.”

It was clear he was unsure still and she didn’t know how much more convincing he would really need. But perhaps that was something to let sit and process; and hopefully, in time, he’d warm up to the idea enough to feel like a weight was lifted off his shoulders.

There was nothing else she could really do at this point she knew. It was a quick resolution but a slow payoff and she had done what she could for the day, "How about you take the rest of the day off? If you wanna give recording the song a shot tomorrow, we can."

“Alright,” He threw out the half-finished beer can, beer spilled from the can, some of it splashing into the sides of the trash can and leaving a potent smell of beer. She made a reminder to herself to have a klokateer replace the trash can later. But it would be quickly forgotten when he spoke up again, “I uh, appreciate it, Abigail. I really do."

"It's not a problem at all. I hope you know that you can always turn to me if you need anything?"

"I do, yeah, and uh the same right back," He paused for a moment, "I'll take you out to dinner sometime if you want. It's the least I can do."

"That would be nice but I don't need a big fancy dinner. I'm fine eating here, and watching a movie." She answered. She wanted to speak more but her phone began ringing and she saw that it was from Charles, "I should probably take this."

"Oh yeah, go ahead. And uh, if you wanna grab some dinner again you know where to find me. I'm sorry I bailed out on you this week, I'll make it up to you." He quickly left before she could speak.

All alone in the studio, she took a moment to compose herself. Refusing to give herself even more time to let what she had gotten herself into sink in, she answered the phone.

It was only three months but somehow this new task felt like it would end up being the hardest task yet. But, she had an album to finish. It was just part of the job, right?

#metalocalypse #abigail remeltindtdrinc #pickles the drummer #picklegail #my writing #goddd im not sure about this but this has been sitting in my drafts for nearly...4 months now its time to release it sdflj

[blood-sucking-freaks]

idk if i'm gonna do all of the BJ book on here yet, BUT here's a section of it that kind of helps expand on the 'Evil Bill and Evil Ted trash Bill and Ted's place' scene and I fucking love that we got a little bit more fleshed out characterization of EB and ET in the book because I love them (also a funny little bit on De Nomolos' 'teaching')

Bill and Ted weren't the best housekeepers in the world. Evil Bill and Evil Ted were even worse - horrible, in fact. They were also totally into mindless destruction, and while Good Bill and Good Ted had their faults, destroying for destroying's sake was not one of them. Of course, they knew that once they got the Wyld Stallyns off the ground, they would have to destroy a few thousand dollars' worth of equipment whenever they played some live gigs in mega-arenas -the fans would expect it - but that was in the future, when they could afford it.

With Evil Bill and Evil ted, on the other hand, it was not only their life's work, what they had been totally programmed to do, but it was their hobby was well. Now, having destroyed their relationship between Good Bill and Good Ted and the princesses and murdering Bill and ted into the bargain, Evil Bill and Evil Ted were addressing themselves to the question of trashing Bill and Ted's apartment. They were very good at it. Pros, you might say.

They had already had a certain amount of fun tearing up what there was of bill and Ted's meager wardrobe, flushing smaller household items down the toilet and totally scratching and smashing their prized collection of Aerosmith and Iron Maiden records. The stereo and the TV were just smoking shells, the posters had been stripped from the walls, the rug ripped up from the floor, the curtains destroyed, the furniture hacked to splinters.

Evil Bill and Evil Ted now turned to the kitchen and found that that was a very entertaining venue, opening up many opportunities for creative and imaginative ways of destroying things.

Ted threw open the door of the refrigerator and yanked out a can of soda. He shook it ferociously and then fired a long stream of sticky liquid at Evil Bill.

"You look thirsty, dude!" cackled Evil Ted.

"And you look hungry!" yelled Evil Bill. He grabbed a handful of eggs from the rack in the door of the refrigerator and pasted evil Ted in the side of the head with two of them.

"Yah!" Evil Ted squeezed some of the yolk from his hair. "And I know what you want!"

"What?"

"Dessert, dude!" Evil Ted pulled out an aerosol can of whipped cream topping and blasted away at Evil Bill. Cream, eggs and soda made the kitchen floor sticky underfoot, and just for the heck of it, Evil Bill and Evil Ted pulled all the food out of the refrigerator, tossed it to the ground and trampled it into paste.

Then they turned their attention to the kitchen cabinets, inventing, on the spur of the moment, a new kind of basketball. Instead of using a ball, like normal people, or even normal robots, they played with all the glassware - plates, glasses, saucers - that they found in the cabinets. True, you couldn't dribble a plate - no bounce, right? - but it did make for a very satisfying slam dunk.

You see, Bill and ted had a little indoor basketball net over their kitchen door, and sometimes, when they had to have some very serious and deep conversation, they would sit at their kitchen counter, talking about the Wyld Stallyns, their babes, their future and other serious things, shooting a nerf ball at the hoop. It helped them concentrate and it didn't do any harm.

That just wasn't evil Bill and Evil Ted's kind of game. Evil Ted had a big water glass in his right hand, and he was backing in toward the basket, his left arm out to keep Evil bill out of the way. Evil Bill, for his part, was working hard to block, in Evil ted's face, trying to prevent the attacker from getting a look at the basket.

"No way, dude," said Evil Bill, "you'll get through my totally non-heinous and most resplendent blocking."

"Yah?" Evil Ted powered in a few feet and hooked the glass at the basket. It sailed through the air, end over end, whiffed through the basket and exploded with a crash on the tile floor.

"Two points, dude!"

"Lucky, dude, that's all. My turn." He scooped up a dinner plate, faked right, went left and blew by Evil Ted, leaped for the hoop and jammed, slamming the plate into smithereens.

"He shoots! He scores!" yelled Evil Bill. "The man, er, robot is unstoppable!"

Evil Ted had an armful of glasses, and he was standing about where he imagined the free throw line to be, pitching them toward the basket. Not all of them swished - a couple of them just smashed against the kitchen wall, showering glass over everything - but most found their target and then shattered.

Evil Bill did his best to help out, goaltending, tipping in a few of the rim shots. It sounded as if it were raining broken glass in the wreckage of Bill and Ted's apartment.

Then, abruptly, it stopped.

"More!" demanded Evil Bill.

Evil Ted was peering into the cupboards, rummaging around, throwing out cans and cereal boxes, rifling the shelves, like a thief searching for hidden valuables.

"Bad news, dude."

"What?"

"Game's over. We are totally out of dishes!"

"Heinous."

They look for a moment over the extensive wreckage, smiles of satisfaction on their faces.

"Well," said Evil Bill. "It was fun while it lasted. I just wish those other us's had more stuff to wreck."

"Well, we didn't make all that much at Pretzels 'n' Cheese, dude."

"Yah, but I wish we had spent more on decorating."

Evil Ted suddenly had a totally triumphant idea. "Wait, Evil Bill, check this out."

"What?"

"This, dude." Evil Ted put his hands around his neck, as if he were trying to strangle himself, and pulled. His electronic, completely solid-state head popped out of his neck, trailing a few wires like tentacles. His headless body thundered across the kitchen, crunching glass underfoot, and slam-dunked his own indestructible head into the basket.

"Two points!" Evil Ted's head roared as it rolled across the kitchen floor.

Evil Bill was most impressed with this new variation on the game. True, they were trashing themselves now, but trashing is trashing.

"Not bad, dude, not bad."

"That's what I call heads-up basketball, dude." Evil Ted's head was still on the floor, and it was giving a certain amount of thought to the problem of how to get back to his body.

"Here," said Evil Bill, "lemme try that." Just as Evil Ted had done, Evil Bill pilled his head off his neck, as easily as popping a tab on a soft-drink can. "Check this out, Evil Ted. Keep your eye on the ball and watch a perfect Kareem-style sky hook." Evil Bill lofted his own head high in the air, a long graceful arc that seemed to be perfectly on target - until it slammed into one of the blades of the ceiling fan in the kitchen. It stuck there and turned slowly around, as if it were on a merry-go-round.

"Whoaaaaaa!" shouted Evil Bill's head. "Totally bogus!"

"Dude! You totally didn't see the fan!" Evil Ted's body, all on its own, decided it was time it had a head back. It reached down and grabbed it and stuffed it back on his neck.

Evil Bill's head continued to turn round and round. It was beginning to make him a little dizzy.

"Evil Ted! Get my body over here and take me off this thing."

"Yah! You heard him, dude," said the now-complete Evil Ted to Evil Bill's headless torso. "Go get your head, dude."

Instead of doing what it was told, the body casually waved to Evil Bill's twirling head, gesturing to him as if it didn't give a damn whether it ever got back with its head again.

"Whoooaaa!" said Evil Ted. "What a lousy attitude you have, Evil Bill."

"As soon as I get back to my body, dude, I am gonna totally beat myself black and blue."

"You'll totally have it coming to you, Evil Bill. Trouble is it's gonna hurt you more than it'll hurt yourself."

"It'll be worth it. Evil Ted, dude, get me down from here, would ya please?"

"Yah!" Evil Ted leaped as if going up for a jump shot, grabbed the head off the fan blade and came down lightly. This seemed to get Evil Bill's body's attention. Evil Ted waved the head at the body. "Got your head, dude!" he said tauntingly.

"Stop fooling around, Evil Ted, and totally reunite me with my body."

"No way, dude!" Evil Ted tucked the head into the crook of his right arm like a football running back. "I'm gonna score a touchdown!"

Evil Bill's voice was muffled. "Gotta get through my triumphant defense first." Evil Bill's headless body charged toward Evil Ted like a front-line blocker. "I'm gonna totally tackle you, dude!"

"No way!" Evil Ted danced around Evil Bill's body, raced into the living room and spiked Evil Bill's head into a wastebasket. "Touch-down for Evil Ted! Now for the triumphant field goal!"

"You're not kicking my head anywhere, dude!" Evil Bill's body rushed into the living room and grabbed the head out of the wastebasket. Quickly he jammed the head back on his shoulders. "That's better."

"That was fun!" said Evil Ted.

"Yah! Way to go, dude! We are truly most resplendent total headbangers."

"Yah!" Evil Ted air-guitared wildly for a moment, then stopped stock-still, a funny look on his face.

"What's up, Evil Ted?"

"We're wanted on the phone, Evil Bill. It's the boss from head office." Evil Ted smacked the back of his head and his eye popped into his hand. There was a moment of static and fuzz in the pupil, the De Nomolos's sneery face came on the screen.

"How's it goin', master-dude?"

De Nomolos looked with utter contempt at his two evil creations. Even though they were central to his plan, he couldn't help but loathe these two creatures. He looked forward to a time when not only would there be no Bill and Ted, but no manmade Bill and Teds either. Bliss...

"Give me a report," snapped De Nomolos. "At once!"

"We totally ruined things between Joanna and Elizabeth and Bill and Ted," said Evil Bill.

"Yah. They were most sad dudes when we totally murdered them."

"Yah! And now we've been having a little R and R while we trash their heinous apartment."

"Stop wasting time," De Nomolos barked. "You must proceed with the plan. Immediately, do you understand me?"

"Yes, master-dude!" they said in unison.

"Understand me, you cretins," said De Nomolos, "it is not enough that you destroy those two...those two...," he couldn't even bring himself to say their names, "...imbeciles. It is imperative that you destroy everything about them."

"Totally!" agreed Evil Bill and Evil Ted.

"So get on with it," De Nomolos ordered. "Follow you orders to the letter."

"Okay, dude," said Evil Ted. "What's next? What does the program say?"

"Don't think! You're not programmed to think!" yelled De Nomolos. "Just do! The next phase consists of completely alienating Bill and Ted from everyone they've ever known."

"Right!" said Evil Bill.

"Excellent!" said Evil Ted. "You are one most smart dude, dude."

De Nomolos looked withy disgust at the machines he had created in the image of his greatest enemies. "I hate them and I hate robot versions of them."

"Hey, dude," said Evil Bill, "don't blame us. You're the one who made us."

"Yah!" said Evil Ted.

"Don't remind me," said De Nomolos. "Get to work!"

The image on the eye monitor fuzzed over and De Nomolos disappeared. Back in the future, he was busy implementing his own part in the plan, which consisted mainly of indoctrinating his captive students at Bill and Ted University in the history he had so carefully and nastily rewritten.

"Pop quiz!" he said suddenly to the class. "Close your books!"

Thomas Edison, Bach and the rest of the class closed their personal copies of a not very fascinating book called Nomolos de Nomolos - The Greatest Man In History and sat up straight.

De Nomolos scowled at the ranks of students. "In what year did Robot Ted marry Missy?" He scanned the room, as if about to choose a candidate for execution. "Thomas Edison! Answer me!"

Edison started as if he had been pinched and swallowed hard. It had been a while since he had taken a pop quiz, and he had never taken one with a gun to his head. It was a most disconcerting feeling.

"Uh...1996?" he asked hopefully.

De Nomolos actually smiled, an expression that looked sort of peculiar, out of place on his face. "Very good. You are as smart as your reputation said you were."

Seeing as Edison was on De Nomolos's good side, he thought he might use the opportunity to get out of the jam he found himself in. "Sir, I hate to bother you, but I have to be getting back to New Jersey to invent the motion picture, and I happen to know that Johann Sebastian Bach here was halfway through Das Musicalishes Opfer - really smoking, really on a roll too - so maybe we could be heading back to our own times now."

Edison wasn't teacher's pet anymore. "Shut up. You know no one can leave the century during a quiz. Leads to cheating. Now... you!" He pointed to a student in the third row who was so scared she jumped about a foot on the air.

"Me?"

"Yes, you..." De Nomolos's brow furrowed as if he was trying to think up a real toughie. "In what year did Missy marry Robot Bill?"

"1998," she said quickly.

De Nomolos smiled his bad guy smile. "Good... Good... Things are coming along very nicely, very nicely indeed." De Nomolos looked around the room, drawing a bead on another hapless student, like a sniper fixing a victim in the crosshairs of his sights. "You!" All the time that Robot Bill and Robot Ted were on earth, where were the actual Bill and Ted?"

The student swallowed hard. "They were dead, sir. Totally."

"Exactly." De Nomolos spoke with a great and obvious sense of satisfaction. Things seemed to be going his way, just as planned. "Gone... dead. Never to return again. And that means that their idiocy will have died with them. No one can do anything about it. Ingenious, isn't it?"

#bill and ted #bill and ted's excellent adventure #bill and ted's bogus journey #bill s preston esquire #evil bill s preston esquire #evil ted theodore logan #ted theodore logan #de nomolos #alex winter #keanu reeves

[bitchiha]

hey!!! can you maybe do any of the boys that your heart would like and the request is; “them seeing/meeting your ex boyfriend for the first time” | so like the shisuirequest??

A/N: Yes I can write this for you!! I chose to write it for Kiba, Naruto and Sai! Bc Sai doesn’t get enough love =(^.^)=

✎ Meeting their s/o’s ex boyfriend!

Kiba

So allow me to paint the scene: it all starts when Kiba is walking you home from one of your routine walks together. He’s got his arm around your waist and he’s telling you about how Hianata almost passed out this morning when Naruto said hi to her. You both laugh as he finishes the memory and Akamaru trails behind you two panting happily.

You live on a pretty busy village street. So you normally see people you know all the time around your house. They’re always passing by to get groceries or go to one of the food stands nearby. So when someone calls out your name you turn around casually — expecting to see Shino or something.

But who you did not expect to see was your ex boyfriend running up to you, pushing passed people on the crowded street without batting an eye. He was kind of a douchebag.

Kiba immediately stops laughing as he feels your back tensing up around his arm. Akamaru starts growling lowly as a response to sensing both yours and Kibas alert.

Tbh tho.. The reason you’re probably the most panicked is because this is Kiba Inuzuka, you’re hotheaded boyfriend who’s just a smidge bit possessive... and he’s meeting your ex boyfriend who’s overconfident and well, for lack of better words - a douchebag.

Your ex walks up to you two and sizes up Kiba and omfg that pisses your boyfriend off. “Y/n, who’s this guy.” Definitely shows his canines (is it an accident? or did he do it to intimidate this dude? You’ll never know.)

Anyways, your ex is cocky as shit — let’s call him Makki. So he interrupts you before you even get the chance to explain to Kiba who he is, “-Oh y/n, you’ve never mentioned me? I’m Makki, her ex boyfriend.”

Dude probably eats up the pissed off look on Kibas face. Like he’s yikes lmfao he’s really pissed off.

Like who does this cocky shit think he is?? Kiba is ready to fight lol “Oh yeah buddy, that’s real good for yo-“

Your ex just cuts him off... like blatantly ignores Kiba and turns to you, “It’s been a while y/n, you still look as gorgeous as ever...” he winks at you and Kiba growls LMFAOO, but Makki just ignores him. “We’d been together for so long y/n, so how come I never knew you liked... dogs so much.” He stares at Kiba right when he says dogs and he gives him this appalled expression on his face

Kibas confused for a second bc dogs are cute....“But there’s nothing wrong with dogs- oh wait! Hey were you trying to insult me you knucklehead!”

HOLD KIBA BACK HOLD KIBA BACK FOR THE LOVE OF GOD

So you’ve got your boyfriend held back, but you forgot about Akamaru.. rookie mistake. Now that giant dog is running towards Makki and the boy starts sprinting for dear life.

Kiba has a good laughing fit at the sight, “that’ll show him.” But you’re concerned because yes your ex is a douchebag and you did enjoy watching him run away scared, but you don’t want Akamaru to get in trouble for this. So you tell Kiba to go find Akamaru this instant.

“All right all right I’ll get em now... See you tomorrow, same time as today?” You nod hurriedly, wanting him to go Asap. You watch him run off before opening the door to your house and going inside.

Which was another rookie mistake.

Once you were inside he stopped running. He placed his hands behind his neck in a relaxed way as he strolled down the street, whistling like he didn’t have a dog to chase down.

“Have at em’ Akamaru”

Naruto

Yup.. you guessed it, this takes place at Ichirakus. It’s a Friday night and you two had no missions or other commitments to take care of, so he swung by your place and insisted you two go out for ramen.

So there you two sat, chatting away between mouthfuls of ramen when your ex boyfriend slides into the seat next to you.

Narutos oblivious tbh.

Like your ex just sits an elbow on the table and looks at you with a smirk, “hey, y/n, long time no see.” And you’re like.. ew wtf are you doing here.

Unlike Kiba, Naruto can’t pick up on your distaste, he just thinks it’s an old friend of yours. “Hey babe, who’s this guy?”

Your ex just introduces himself by his name and you decide to leave it at that, if you tell Naruto he’s your ex he will just get difficult to handle. So, you introduce Naruto as Naruto to avoid your ex getting all competitive too.

So you kinda avoid all relationship talk altogether and just completely skip over that fact. Honestly you’re half glad you did because Naruto actually gets along with him. Like for starters they both like ramen, are knuckleheaded and very loud. You definitely have a type. And they’re super funny too, so the whole time they’re just kinda laughing with eachother.

Had a good 15 minute long conversation about their favourite instant noodle brand and roasted you for the brand you liked. “Really y/n, that’s shameful.” They both say it in unison.

Also, your ex didnt have the intention to come into Ichirakus and crash your date, it was just a coincidence. So there was no ulterior motives to his presence and he’s not the type of guy to do it tbh. To top it all off he ends up paying for the ramen. Your ex literally pays for both you and Narutos ramen.

Such a weird experience for you tbh, but it’s also kinda funny to watch them both oblivious to your relationship with them.

At the end of the night when your ex heads home, you tell Naruto. Like you’re strolling through the busy Friday night rush and you finally spring it on him because he won’t shut up about your ex.

“Wow that guy was so cool y/n, never knew you had friends like that!” “Well actually Naruto, hes sorta my ex boyfriend.”

His eyes pop out of his head. “WHAT and you’re just telling me this now??” He’s in his head like: damn I should have showed off more or I should have made more jokes to prove that I’m the better one. He’s also like: shit he’s so cool how can he compete???!!1!1!1

Tries to hate your ex from then on, but they’re just so alike he literally cannot.

Luckily you don’t ever run into him like that again.

Sai

So.. let’s just be real here.. if you’re dating Sai you clearly have a type. You go for those emo little artsy boys. The only problem is that your ex boyfriend was an emo preppy rich art boy. You couldn’t stand his attitude anymore so you two broke up.

The only problem is that you live in the Leaf village and there’s very limited art events, so you would always bump into him. Luckily you hadn’t run into him with Sai around.. until now lol

You’re with Sai at an art exhibit that you managed to get him to submit work for. He was hesitant at first, but he gave in because you kept asking, and if he was being honest he wouldn’t mind showing some of his pieces.

So there you two are, standing together like that emo art couple that you are when your ex boyfriend walks in. He literally looks like the definition of avant garde. When he sees you he’s prepared to make some condescending comment, but then he sees Sai and he’s like: oh shit

Let’s be real here if anyone saw you and Sai together it would be an “oh shit” moment. You’re just an art power couple. That doesn’t mean your exes snobbiness would let him back down though.

So, this dude wants to prove he’s superior. When he walks up to the two of you he flat out interrupts the conversation and is like, “y/n, nice to see you,” then he turns to Sai and jusy gets down to business “so? You like art, then?”

Sai doesn’t comprehend the hostility in your ex’s tone so he answers it with a smile, prepared to tell him that this is actually his exhibit before he’s Interrupted again. “-Oh so you like art then? Okay, describe what mediums are used here.” your ex points at one of Sai’s paintings, not aware that he literally fucking painted it because he didn’t let Sai finish speaking.

So of course Sai answers and goes into a whole ramble about what mediums and why and how they bring out the details. Your ex kinda stands there like: “oh shit” again bc damn, he knows his shit.

He just points at another painting and is like, “what about this one.” And as your ex turns to study it better himself he realizes it’s literally you. It’s a painting that Sai did of you when you two first met eachother, you’re laying on the grass laughing and there’s orange hues dancing across your face indicating that the sun is setting. It’s one of Sais absolute favourites.

It’s such a bomb ass fucking painting and your ex just kinda stares at it confused and shook and you have to explain, “my boyfriends work is in this exhibit, he painted that one of me.”

But as I said, your ex is a douchebag and he’s not going to let your boyfriend get a compliment from him so he just goes, “hmph, it’s nothing special.”

And that kinda bothers Sai because that’s his girlfriend in that painting therefore it is very special.

You know where this is going. Naruto said the same line to him before LOL

So Sai hits him with this signature line, “just like your dick.” AND HE SAYS IT W THE FAKE SMILE LMFAO

Now your ex is literally dead. Like he’s flamed. On the floor straight up incinerated. And your trying to hide your laughter.

Security has to escort the guy out.

Very memorable moment for the two of you.

10/10

#naruto shippuden #naruto #naruto headcanons #naruto imagines #naruto x reader #kiba x reader #sai x reader #sai headcanons #anime headcanon

[pinkkunt-imagines]

Erron Black || You Better Tell Her

Song: Teedra Moses - You Better Tell Her

Synopsis: After an almost physical encounter at a bar, reader decides to confront her partner about the reason behind the events.

A/N: Surprise! This ended up being a bit longer than I wanted, but welcome to a new series! I decided that I would work on what I wanted until I became inspired by these request in my inbox. It’s just a bunch of oneshot songfics with our MK BOIS. And we have everyone’s favorite up first, Toxic Erron Black! I have another one coming out later today as a gift for the extreme long hiatus, so please enjoy! Next up is The CAAAGE.

[Name] knew Erron was a notorious flirt with the ladies; in fact, his suave words is how he picked her up in the first place. Despite this, she still didn’t play when it came to certain aspects of their relationship. There were boundaries, rules, and she was definitely going to be respected. Erron had learned this the hard way when he tried his flirting tactics with another woman in front of her. She slapped the audacity out of him, and he never did anything like that again, at least not in her face. Erron knew from that point on their relationship wasn’t going to be like his previous ones. This had only been about a week into their new kinship. Somewhere in Erron’s mind, he got off on that hit rather than his usual, “I’m not opposed to hitting you back” behavior.

Currently getting dressed in “casual” attire on an early winter Sunday morning, [Name] examined herself in the mirror. Erron was coming from Outworld to spend a few days with his new partner, and he agreed to breakfast at some diner. After dating for six months, she was used to the whole long-distance thing. Space and independence are what she valued most anyways. He’d leave for X amount of time, coming back on some weekends, and spoiling her. Their relationship survived their phones. Texting That being said, even she was in need of some affection, and more importantly-- dick. There was only so much a collection of toys could do during his absence, and none of them even compared. With her white mink coat on, accompanied by a matching headband, she walked out of her door.

Noticing Erron in the wide diner window, her mood quickly became sour as the events of the night before replayed in her head. Luckily for him, he hadn’t noticed her, otherwise, he would’ve likely been flipped off. Erron was about to get a mouth full, and he didn’t even know it. Thankfully, he’d already gone through the trouble to order her food before her arrival. Pancakes, bacon, eggs, and a tall glass of orange juice. It made her heart smile, but no. She shook it off as fast as it came. [Name] had to remain strong and not let that affect her mood going in.

He finally noticed her approaching from the distance, a white fur coat was easy to pick apart from the crowd. It had to be an occasion for her to put it on, and not a good one, usually meaning she was trying to present herself in a higher headspace than she was. Knowing this, he smirked, getting up from the booth to greet her.

“How are you, sweetcheeks? Lookin’ cozy this morning in that coat.” As Erron went to embrace his woman in a loving hug, she smushed his face away, eyes unamused behind her dark shades. “Don’t touch me.”

He rolled his eyes. “Well, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this mornin’.”

[Name] sat down on her side of the booth, sitting back and crossing her legs under the table. There was no attempt to hide her attitude, silence taking over, and tension becoming thicker the longer he asked about her, and the more he gave no response at all. Erron’s attitude and anger were growing with hers. When he said something, he expected to be answered. But, he calmed himself down, telling himself to just stay patient.

“I just came back and you’re already moody. What’s got your panties in a bunch? You on your period or somethin’? ”

She sucked her teeth, eyes rolling again, before taking off her shades and placing them on the table. [Name] stared Erron up and down with a stink face, and in return, he smirked again. That smirk, she could just punch it off his face right now.

“There are those pretty [E/Color] eyes. Was wonderin’ when I was gonna see em’.”

“I’m really not in the mood for your games today, Erron. So don’t try it.”

“Are you gonna keep your mouth shut about what I did wrong, or are you gonna say it?”

“What’s wrong is that you’re out here fucking around. I went to a bar last night with my friends, and some female approached me.”

Erron quirked an eyebrow, curious about the whole situation and how it played out, “And?”

“AND, if what’s she saying is true then she’s been sucking on you since around the time you left. She came up to me, bragging about the things you do to her, and things she does to you. Getting all in my face, and talking about how she’s going to replace me.”

He did a deep chuckle, taking a sip out of his glass of cold sweet tea, that stupid damned smirk there. He was enjoying this story. “Then, what did you,” he questioned. His arrogance was radiating off of him. It was taking everything in [Name]’s power to not jump across the table and bash his head in.

“I was close to slapping the shit out of her, but my friends stopped that. Had to get escorted out. I was looking too damn cute to be almost putting my hands on someone Erron. I am a grown woman, looking for a grown man. I don’t have time to play games with you and these other females.”

“Don’t tell me you believe her now, darlin’?”

“I don’t give a damn if its real or fake. You have women thinking they can approach me.”

Erron placed a handout, looking to cup her face with his gloved hand, “But sweetheart, I don’t even know who this alleged woman is.” 

Whilst he was speaking, she slapped his hand away. [Name] didn’t believe a word he said, and she wasn’t going to allow him to sweet talk his way out of this one. But that burning desire to strike him again rose. She wasn’t an abusive partner, by all means, she believed that if a woman hit a man they should be hit back, it was just being LIED to that made her want to go ballistic. It was almost certain that whoever that girl was, she was telling the truth. She spoke with such vibrance about Erron and their sexual life, the same way [Name] would, but in a very much subtle way.

[Name] decided she needed to calm herself down. How would look if she made a scene out in public? Or even worse, be brought out of character for a man? No. Taking deep breaths, she calmed herself before speaking again. “Well, whoever this person was they know YOU. And you better go tell that girl that I am not the one.”

Erron fixed his mouth to say something, but before he could even start, “And if you ever put me through something like this again, we’re done.” Angrily getting up from the booth, she placed her shades back on and walked away from the situation, her pride refusing her to look back as she did so. 

He picked the glass of sweet tea up again, moving it around so that the ice hit against one another. Smirking and letting out a deep breath, Erron took a sip again, then placed some cash on the table. “Yup, she just wants some dick.” And he wasted no time following after her.

#erron black x reader #erron black #Mortal Kombat #mortal kombat erron black #erron black imagines #erron black imagine #mortal kombat imagine #mortal kombat imagines #erron black scenarios #erron black scenario #mortal kombat scenarios #mortal kombat headcanon #mortal kombat headcanons #erron black headcanons #erron black headcanon #mk11 erron black #mk11 #mortal kombat 11

[mayraki]

CHAPTER FOUR

“the alcohol stealers”

CHAPTER THREE

SERIES MASTERLIST

MY MASTERLIST

who is max belinsky?

concept boards for the new characters

summary: Max Belinsky and JJ Maybank are the two troublemakers of Outer Banks. Going to parties, getting into trouble, having an attitude and being the two people you don’t mess with are the perfect ways to describe them. What would happen when the two people who seem to have trouble follow them around meet? One thing is fore sure, they didn’t expect this outcome.

Max watched herself in the mirror. She had a long white dress on that had a cut along her left leg. She sat down on her bed and put on her casual black boots, she was not going to go far out from her comfort zone. She was not the dress user but for this occasion, she had to.

She heard Sam’s car pull on the street and a little smile appeared on her face. That rush feeling she loved was appearing on her stomach. She hadn’t done something this planned out for a long time, she was way more excited than she ever expected to be, but she couldn’t help it. She loved it.

“I see you’re wearing the dress I told you..” Max said to Sam once she was on the copilot sit of Sam’s car. “Looking good.”

“I always look good.” Sam winked at Max and she let out a little smile.

“We’re back baby.”

“We’re back!” Sam said excited. “The best partners in crime are fucking back!”

After Sam drove to where the party was, Max got out of the car on the side of the house with her backpack on her back. She saw her best friend drove away and waited for the right opportunity to start her plan. Once everyone was out of her sight, she looked up to see the balcony that was on top of her. With ease, she climbed it and was able to go inside the house. All those times where she had to climb through fences to get away from the police were helping her on that moment.

She walked through the door into the house, looking around for someone to help her. That’s when she saw a waiter walking with some bottles on his hands.

“Hello, hello..” she said softly and then walked closer to him. “Hi! Excuse me, I was looking for the bathroom and I got lost, this house is like a maze!” She let out a little fake smile. “Can you tell me where it is, please?”

The waiter pointed at the end of the hallway and she thanked him with a smile. Max took her phone out of her backpack and pretended to pick up a call, while watching the waiter walk away.

“Hello? Yes! Mom, I’m just going to the bathroom, nothing wrong with that..” she said to the phone. And then what Max wanted, happend. The waiter went inside a room and then came out of it holding not even a single bottle of alcohol. “Mom! I have to go, I found the bathroom, stop being so annoying! Gosh!” Max said annoyed when the waiter passed next to her and kept walking towards the other end of the hallway.

She made sure he was out of her sight before walking towards the room. “Checkpoint!” She said when the door was opened and the light was on. The room was full of alcohol of any kind, from the floor to the ceiling. “This is a piece of cake.” She said with a smile.

“Not so fast, princess.” Max recognised the voice immediately. She turned to see JJ standing behind her with his arms across his chest. He had a backpack on and was dress formal, with a white button shirt and a black bow tie.

“I’m not surprised we had the same idea.” She said while JJ walked inside the room and closed the door behind him. “But were is John B?”

“I’m not going to say our plan to you, princess. Don’t try to trick me.” He shook his head.

Max opened her backpack and started to put as much bottles she could inside. “C’mon! It’s not like I can do anything about it now.” She watched the time on her phone. “We have to be at the balcony in ten minutes before the deadline, whatever it is, I can’t change mine.”

“I guess that’s true...” JJ said while questioning if he should talk, but when he saw that there was no chance Max could do something with it, he continued talking. “John B is at the kitchen. That’s our second part of the plan.” Max gave JJ and approval nod. “Now you have to tell me yours.”

“Uh, no, I’m not that stupid.” Max shook her head and JJ opened his mouth offended.

“C’mon! I told you ours!”

“Yeah! Big mistake!” Max let out a laugh and then added when JJ shook his head. “I’m kidding, Sam is at the back, were the trucks come and leave the food and drinks.”

“Alright, we’ll see who wins then.” JJ nodded and they both closed their backpacks when they were finally full with bottles.

They both carefully went to the balcony that Max climbed earlier, making sure no one was around. Luckily for them, those halls where as empty as the beach on a storm day. As soon as they stopped outside, John B appeared behind them with a huge smile on his face while holding three beer bottles with his hands.

“Look at that! That’s my boy!” JJ said while grabbing the bottles and putting them on his backpack. “Were is Sam?” He asked with a proud smile. He looked down at his watch and then shook his head. “Less than five minutes, princess.”

Max rolled her eyes and watched her phone impatiently, moving the end of her foot up and down.

“Three minutes..” John B said. He then did a handshake with JJ with a tiny celebration thinking that they were going to win. But interrupting their little happy moment, Sam walked into the room with a huge smile on her face.

“Hello..” she said. She lifted into the air the three bottles she had on her hands and Max watched how JJ and John B’s smiles disappeared from their faces.

“A tie?!” JJ asked annoyed. But Max turned to Sam and she gave her a little nod with a smile.

“Care to do the honours, Max?” Sam asked.

“Of what?” John B asked confused.

“Oh! Right, it slipped my mind! See, JJ, when I was telling you our plan I totally forgot about this other thing that we had under our sleeves.” JJ crossed his arms around his chest while listening to Max’s words carefully. “We all know how Kooks are on this kind of parties, they get distracted... they get drunk, they dance all night, leaving their drinks completely unintended on random tables. Sam, I think is better if you show them.” Max finished and Sam nodded with a smile, lifting her dress to let her legs out in the open and showing little tubes filled with alcohol attached to her leg.

“What the fuck?!” John B asked surprised. JJ covered his face with his hands frustrated.

Max looked at Sam proudly of her plan and she just shrugged her shoulders. “Never underestimate a girl in a dress I guess.”

“Pizza! Pizza! Pizza!” Sam and Max yelled at the same time once the boys stepped out of John B’s van.

“As the losers, we bought pizza for the winners and we like to congratulate them.” John B said and Sam applauded excited.

“I still don’t know how you pulled that off without being caught.” Sarah said to Sam.

“True, I didn’t even see you back at the party.” Kie added.

Sam shrugged her shoulders and then said with a smile. “Practice.” Max looked at her friend with a proud smile knowing damn well she enjoyed the compliments.

“Well, I guess you’re never going to live this down, are you?” JJ asked to Max once he sat down next to her in front of the fire that the Kie prepared at The Chateau.

She pretended to think about it but then quickly nodded. “If feels good to know that I’m better than you.” She said with a smile.

“Beginners luck.” JJ reached out to grab a piece of pizza and then went back to be close to Max.

“Yeah, if that makes you sleep well at night.”

“That’s not what makes me sleep well at night.” He said with a smirk and Max rolled her eyes, but a little smile escaped her mouth before she could do anything about it.

“Hey, has anyone seen Pope?” Sarah asked.

“I saw him at the party working with his dad like he told us, but after that, I didn’t see him.” Sam said shaking his head.

“He’s probably helping wrap things up.” John B said not giving much thought into it.

“Alright.” Max said getting up. “I’m getting another beer. Anyone want one?”

Sarah, John B and Sam lifted their arms into the air and Max stood there looking around. “Well... that’s more than I expected. I was just being nice..”

“I’ll help you.” JJ said before anyone could say anything else.

They both walked inside the house and immediately headed to the kitchen. Once Max had enough beers out of the fridge, she put them on top of the counter to look for the opener.

“Found it!” JJ said when Max turned around.

“Huh, I was about to do that.”

“Well, great minds think alike.” He said and Max took her hand to her chest and pretended to be tearing up.

“Was that a compliment? A genuine compliment? Wow.” She wiped a fake tear from her cheek and JJ just shook his head with a smile.

“I’m already regretting it.” Max let out a little laugh.

“Well, don’t. I said thank you for when you were ready to fight that Kook because he said something about me. That was a compliment, because normally, I would just say back off and don’t help me.”

“See? I like this thing that we have going on. We both do something that would get us in trouble, I flirt with you, you hate me for it, and then we thank each other for whatever reason.” JJ nodded proudly but Max shook her head.

“Well, we can get rid of the flirting scene.”

“But that’s my favourite part! And, I’m pretty sure that deep down you love it too.” Max shook her head even more quickly than before. “Don’t deny it! I can already see us in the future, you finally fall for me and you can’t keep your hands off me.”

“Uh, uh. If we fall in the future, you’re the one who can’t keep their hands of me.”

“Alright.” JJ nodded and left the opener on the counter. “Let’s settle this right now-”

“Don’t even try JJ.” Max cut him off.

“At least let me finish!”

“I know what you’re going to say!”

“Oh, you do?” A little smirk appeared on his face.

“Yeah, you’re going to say let’s make out or some shit and see who can’t keep their hands off the other!” Max made her voice deeper to imitate JJ’s.

JJ quickly nodded. “Alright, I accept.”

“What?” Max asked confused. But when a the smirk on JJ’s face went even bigger, she understood. “Ohh, I see what you did there.” He let out a loud laugh and Max punched him in the arm.

“Ouch!”

“Don’t be a little baby..” Max said rolling her eyes.

“In all seriousness, you did good tonight.” JJ said when he finished opening the bottles. “I’m not so sad about losing against you.” He handed Max a bottle and then they both toasted. “To a next challenge and me winning.”

“Keep dreaming Maybank.” Max said before taking a sip from her bottle.

They both stared at each other while their bottles were on their mouths. She looked at those blue eyes, feeling like they were looking at her soul. Max would never say it out loud, but JJ was really attractive. She couldn’t help but watched his arms when they tensed up from grabbing all the beer bottles. She took another sip trying to think of sometime else, but the way that shirt was tight around his arms was extremely difficult to not think about them once she noticed.

“Uh... I’m going to the bathroom, I’ll be right there.” She said and JJ just nodded. She took two steps but then stopped when a yell from outside caught her attention. JJ and her looked at each other confused.

“Pope!” She recognised Kie’s voice, and without hesitating, she followed JJ outside the house.

CHAPTER FIVE

TAGLIST

@iamaunicorn4704 @onceinagenerationrage @lasnaro @k-k0129 @x-lulu @oopsiedoopsie23 @baby-pogue @roamingmarauder @ponyboys-sunsets @agirlwholovescoffee @thorsangel @sunflowerbabe81 @scandalousfemale @deviouscharitos @badbitsh13 @thehomeiknow @cilorawr @drewsephsmiles @ilovejjmaybank @corebore123 @starksweasley @rudths @allycat449-blog @netflix-imagines @x-lulu @alwaysasadaesthetic @queenofthepouges

if your name it’s like this let me know if you changed your username! maybe that’s why I can’t tag you :(

#rudy pankow x reader #rudy obx #rudy pankow imagine #rudy pankow #jj x reader #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank x you #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank imagine #jj #jj outer banks #jj imagine #jj maybank #jj obx #jj x y/n #jj x you #obx jj #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks netflix #outer banks imagine #outer banks #obx fanfiction #obx netflix #obx imagine #obx

[mermaidcashton]

dance in the living room, love with an attitude

authors: claire (@mermaidcashton) & laura (@maluminspace)  ship/AU: michael clifford/ashton irwin, roommates AU  prompt: “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I have no idea what I’m doing. I almost never do.”  wordcount: 10k+ warnings: swearing, implied & explicit sexual content  a/n: • written for @maluminspace & @h0tsos ‘s 5sos fic writers collab (in which we all chose from a list of AU’s and had the above prompt quote to include - check out the masterlist linked to see everyone elses!) • i do not give permission for this (or any of my writing) to be reposted, by anyone, on this or any other website. please don’t do it! • title from ‘only human’ by the jonas brothers dance in the living room, love with an attitude *** The music was probably turned up a little too loud, but it helped to drown out the nerves starting to bubble away in Michael’s tummy.  ‘I hope ‘Ashton’ likes MCR’ he thought as he half-heartedly wiped down the kitchen counters with a damp cloth. He wanted the place to look mildly tidier than it usually did for his new flatmate. First impressions counted for a lot, as his mum had told him twice this week already.

Once the splashes of milk from this morning’s mishap with the cereal had been washed away along with the crumbs from last night’s dinner of peanut butter on toast, he stole a quick glance at the clock on the wall over in the living room area. It wasn’t quite midday, which meant he had a little over an hour until his new roommate was due to arrive. That should mean that he just about had enough time to vacuum the whole flat and take a shower.  Throwing the dishcloth into the little cleaning basket on the window ledge, Michael focused on  screaming the lyrics to ‘Thank you for Venom’ and tried not to focus too much on the anxiety about the rest of the day.

Agreeing to live with someone he’d never met in person probably wasn’t the smartest of ideas. It’s not like Michael had been given much choice, though. His last flatmate had given him less than a week’s notice when she decided to move in with her short-term girlfriend and left Michael with a whole bunch of bills that his meagre paycheck could never stretch far enough to cover. Luckily, his best friend Luke had a work colleague who desperately needed a new place to live since his landlord had slapped him with a very short notice period to move out of his current flat. Luke had offered to give this work friend Michael’s contact details and the following morning, Michael had woken up to a text from a guy called Ashton who was very interested in Michael’s recently vacant spare room. 

After explaining the cost of rent and other bills in a few subsequent texts, Michael had received a very grateful reply from Ashton asking if it would be possible to  move in that weekend. Of course the blonde had agreed, eager to get the awkward first meeting out of the way as soon as possible.

Determined to get his most hated chore done before he could start collecting his thoughts and mentally preparing for the arrival of his new flatmate, Michael grabbed the portable hoover from the charging port on the tiny bit of the kitchen wall that was not taken up by the counters and cabinets. He was just about to press the ‘ON’ button when a knock at the door put an abrupt halt to his plans.

Michael huffed as he made his way over to the front door. The only people that had the security code for the entrance of the building were his parents and Luke, neither of which were due to visit today. That left only someone who had the wrong flat, or one other possible visitor; his neighbour, Calum. They’d hang out sometimes, whenever their days off matched up. Their shared interest in certain obscure and rare computer games and a mutual love of sushi and beer made for hours of fun without the chore of actually having to leave the building. Michael had definitely made sure to let Calum know that he was expecting his new flatmate to arrive today, though, so he was a little confused as to why his neighbour would be dropping by now. 

That feeling only intensified when a glance through the spy hole on his front door revealed that Calum was accompanied by a stranger. He opened the door cautiously, still feeling a little bewildered. 

“Hey, mate.” Calum grinned, waving a handful of unopened letters in greeting. “Just found this guy outside with a bunch of boxes. I knew you were expecting your new flatmate today, so I helped bring his stuff up.” His dark brown eyes surveyed Michael with something like confusion from beneath the rim of his seemingly ever-present black bucket hat. 

Michael could only imagine that his neighbour was mirroring his own befuddled expression because Ashton wasn’t due to arrive for another hour. He forced himself to look over at the stranger, whilst his mind worked over what was happening.

It appeared that Calum was right in assuming this was Ashton. He was indeed carrying a large cardboard box labelled ‘bedroom’ that would definitely suggest he was moving house. There were also a bunch of smaller boxes piled against the wall beside the front door which supported that assumption. 

“Do you guys need any more help?” Calum offered, “I’m free if…”

“Nah, it’s fine.” Michael cut in quickly. “We can take it from here, thanks Cal.” The last thing Michael wanted was more people to see the apartment in its current state. 

“No worries.” Calum smiled, “You know where I am if you change your mind.” He turned his attention to his little fluffy dog who had been patiently waiting for his post-walk nap. “C’mon Duke.” 

Once Calum and his little fluff ball had wandered off across the hall towards their own apartment, Michael turned his attention back to Ashton. Three things struck him about his new flatmate in very quick succession;

Ashton was incredibly hot. His curly black hair hung loosely around his handsome face, framing his chiselled cheekbones and clean shaven, angular jaw beautifully. His hazel eyes were striking from behind the horn-rimmed glasses perched neatly on his perfectly ski-slope shaped nose. 

He looked vaguely familiar. Michael knew that he’d seen Ashton’s face somewhere before but it wouldn’t quite click in his brain. Not that it would be entirely surprising if they’d met before, they did share a close friend after-all. It just seemed a little off that Luke hadn’t reminded Michael of the occasion they'd met at before suggesting they live together.

Despite his silence, Ashton looked somewhat annoyed, possibly bordering on angry. That struck Michael as odd. He had been known to piss people off fairly regularly but seeing as he’d barely even spoken to Ashton, this would be an all time record.

“So you must be Ashton…” Michael smiled, awkwardly tucking a strand of his messy blonde hair behind his ear whilst offering his free hand out for his new flatmate to shake. “I’m Michael, or you can call me Mike if you want. Most of my friends do.” Ashton didn’t accept the offer of a handshake, in fact he made no movement whatsoever. He simply glared at Michael with an increasing level of irritation. “Are you kidding me?” 

Michael knew that he was not the prettiest of people. He dressed casually most of the time and due to Ashton’s early appearance, he’d not yet had a chance to shower and make himself a little more presentable. He didn’t think that he quite deserved such a cutting greeting, though. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t expecting you yet, I was just…”

“You don’t even remember me, do you?!” Ashton interrupted, his tone dripping of resentment now. “Fucking unbelievable!”  Michael couldn’t remember ever feeling more confused in his life. Ashton hadn’t mentioned that  they’d previously met in his text messages so why would he be so angry that Michael hadn’t immediately recognised him now? 

The newcomer’s harsh tone had caught Calum’s attention, causing the neighbour to pause in sorting through his mail and stare unashamedly at the scene unfolding across the hall.

“This could only fucking happen to me…” Ashton huffed, adjusting his grip on the box in his arms. “I get turfed out of my flat because my landlord suddenly decides he wants it for his daughter and just when I think I’ve landed on my feet with a new place, my new fucking flatmate turns out to be a one night stand who doesn’t even remember me! Talk about kicking a guy when he’s down!”

Michael barely registered Calum’s audible gasp as realisation crashed around him. Suddenly the memory of the beautiful man that had swept Michael off his feet at a bar a few months back replayed in his head like a movie he’d seen once but hadn’t been able to remember the title of. He’d only known the guy as Ash and he’d assumed it was short for Ashley. Despite the fact that Ash’s hair had been a sexy shade of crimson, styled in a neat quiff and he hadn’t been wearing glasses, it was definitely the same guy that was standing in front of him right now. 

“Ash…” the word escaped Michael almost of it’s own volition. “But I thought that was short for… oh my god, this can’t be happening.” He cupped his own face in his hands as the reality of the awkward situation began to settle into the very fibre of his being.

“Wow, you can’t make this shit up.” Calum gasped, an almost delighted smile on his face. “What’re you guys gonna do?” 

Despite Calum’s annoying rubbernecking, it gave Michael the perfect excuse to look away from Ashton for a second. “Well I’m gonna throw something at you, if you don’t get lost right now, Calum.” He hissed. 

“He’s not the one coming across like a shithead right now.” Ashton scoffed, setting the box in his arms onto the floor. “Being a nosey neighbour still makes you a hell of a better person than the guy that flatters their way into your bed and gives you amazing sex but then gives you a fake number!”

“That’s right.” Calum agreed. “People that do that are the worst. At least have the balls to tell the other person you’re not looking for anything long term before you disappear the next day.”

“Calum, I swear to god…” Michael hissed. 

Ashton shook his head angrily. “He’s right, if you never wanted to see me again, you could have just said. I wouldn’t have wasted some of my best moves on you.” 

“Oh, what were the moves?” Calum smirked, prying his way further into the conversation. 

His neighbour’s blatant disregard for the seriousness of the situation was annoying to say the least. It was also the last thing Michael needed to deal with right now. “Piss off, Calum!”, he snapped. 

Duke yapped disapprovingly at Michael, his tiny eyes focused on the blonde man as his human’s smirk grew even further across his face.

“Oh, you can shut up as well!” Michael snapped at the tiny pooch. “Now you’re yelling at a dog.” Ashton rolled his eyes. “Maybe it’s a good thing you blew me off, looks like I had a lucky escape from dating an arsehole!”  Michael really couldn’t envisage the situation getting any worse. At this rate he was going to be searching for another roommate instead of enjoying a pleasant lunch with this one, like he’d hoped. 

“I didn’t give you a fake number!” Michael protested. “I swear, I’m not like that, and I really liked you! I broke my phone, the same weekend we...met.” He felt his cheeks begin to colour, trying his hardest to ignore Calum’s snort as he focused on Ashton’s disbelieving face.

“It took me two weeks to sort out a new one, I had a little pay as you go in between, I had a different number, and I-you did call, then?” Michael paused his blurted explanations to blurt out a question, instead. He had been wondering every time it was late and he was alone for 6 months whether or not he’d missed a call from the best one night stand of his life. 

“Of course I did!” Ashton threw his hands up in exasperation, startling Duke and sending him scuttling back into the still-open doorway of the opposite flat. “I thought we had a connection, we said we wanted to see each other again; that doesn’t happen that often for me! Maybe it does for you…”

“Oh, it definitely doesn’t.” Calum smirked. “The only man who comes to see Michael regularly is the Domino’s delivery guy.” 

Before Michael could blow up at him, Calum backed up properly into his flat, resting his hand on his front door. “It’s a shame, actually,” he continued, smiling encouragingly at his neighbour. “Michael is really a great guy. He always has time for me and Duke; whether it’s for beers, a listening ear, or belly rubs.” 

He throws a wink to Ashton as he shuts his front door with a click. “I’ll leave you to figure out which one is for me. Welcome to the building!” 

Michael knows he needs to gain control of the slightly-stunned silence left in Calum’s wake, fast. He needs to say something apologetic, or charming, or cool. “Do you like fish fingers?” Or that. 

Ashton blinked a few times in quick succession, and Michael wanted to throw himself down the stairs. 

“Do I like fish fingers?” Ashton repeated, pushing his long black hair back with both hands.

Michael flushed again, at least thankful for the fact that he no longer had an audience for the most embarrassing encounter of his life. “It’s just, I thought we could have lunch, and talk, and I’m not really much of a cook, but I have fish fingers, right, and everyone likes fish finger sandwiches...don’t they…” He trailed off, hoping Luke perhaps had another co-worker who needed immediate accommodation. 

Ashton fixed him with the most intense stare he’d ever received in a conversation about freezer food, and Michael tried to match his unrelenting gaze in a way that would make him look less like he wanted to cry. Ashton’s eyes really were beautiful, seeming almost magnified by his glasses. He looked thoughtful and sad now, rather than judgmental and angry, and Michael would take that.

“I do.” Ashton decided on, after what felt like an eternity. He stooped down to pick up his box again, muscles tensing, and Michael’s mind began to wander. 

He remembered Ashton’s arms looking just like that as he lifted him up for the last few feet of the journey to the redhead-at-the-time’s bed. Michael could almost feel his fingers digging into the bare skin of his thighs all over again. The memories of slow, wet, considered neck kisses being broken with teeth, and the delicious burn that started low and spread like wildfire as Ashton stretched him out like he was born to do it.

“Michael? After you?”  Michael snapped out of his daze, dragging his eyes away from Ashton’s lips where they had landed at some point in his reminiscing. He stepped back so Ashton could enter the flat and set the box down by the sofa. “Yeah, great, come in, make yourself at home, I’ll get the rest of your boxes!”   As soon as he was outside in the corridor, Michael let out a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding. ‘Okay, Clifford - you need to snap out of it. Relax and smooth things over so you two can live together.’ He told himself, as sternly as he could manage. ‘We need a roommate more than we need to get laid.’

‘That’s debatable.’ Another voice - which sounded more like Calum than himself - chimed in before Michael shook it off and picked up the stack of cardboard boxes cluttering up the corridor.

‘Okay, you can do this. Damage control. Just be normal. Go in and face this head on. You can do this.’ Michael murmured, running his tongue over his bitten lips as he took his first steps back to where Ashton was waiting.

He hip-checked the front door closed as he re-entered the flat, placing the boxes next to one Ashton had carried in, before straightening up to see Ashton sat on the sofa, looking both nervous and delicious. 

“I…” Michael faltered under Ashton’s almost shy gaze, then caught sight of a slice of Ashton’s firm, hairy stomach from where his t-shirt was riding up slightly.

“I just need to go to the bathroom. Then we can...talk, and eat. Okay?” Michael forced what he hoped was a casual, winning smile, and then scuttled across to the bathroom the moment Ashton made a noise of agreement and nodded his head.

Michael clicked the lock shut and put the toilet lid down as he pulled his phone from the pocket of his sweatpants. He began tapping away with urgency as he took a seat on the toilet, pulling up his message thread with his best friend.

SOS!!!! 🚨

Luke!!!!

Where are you

LUKE FUCK HELP ME YOU DICK

With each message he sent, Michael could feel his panic beginning to swell back up in his chest. Finally, three dots began moving across the message to indicate Luke was writing. Help was on the way.

🥺🥺🥺 What’s up

Michael felt what he knew was an unjustified rage at Luke and his fucking emojis as he furiously typed a reply.

Oh nothing, I just had sex with my new roomate!!!

Michael jumped when his phone immediately started vibrating relentlessly, sliding his finger across the screen and holding it gingerly to his ear. 

“Hello?” He whispered into the receiver. 

“WHAT!!! What do you mean you’ve slept with him?! Ashton was due there at 12, and it’s now...12 minutes past 12! That’s INSANE, even for you! I cannot believe-”

“Luke!” Michael hissed through clenched teeth, turning on the cold tap on the sink before he spoke again. “Not today, idiot! Remember, months ago, when I broke my phone? That weekend, I hooked up with that guy I met at The Alchemist? Red hair, big arms, amazing mouth-”

“Yes, I remember! What’s that got to do with it?” Luke cut in. 

“It was Ashton. I only knew him as Ash, remember? And obviously I never saw him again because I had no way to contact him after I broke my phone. But it’s him, Luke - he’s in my living room! In OUR living room! What am I gonna do?! I am freaking out!”

“Oh my God! You’ve really outdone yourself this time, Mike! You’ve had your new roommates dick in your mouth before he even moved in! Classic you.”

Michael could practically hear Luke’s eyeroll. “This is not classic me! Dick! Help me, Luke!”

“What do you want me to do, I can’t unfuck him for you!” Luke shot back. Michael let out an involuntary whimper and slumped further down on the toilet. He was so screwed.  

***

Michael emerged from the bathroom, Luke’s advice ringing in his ears as he approached Ashton on the sofa.  ‘He’s a really nice guy, Mike; just talk to him. Explain what happened after you hooked up, and say you hope you can put it behind you and be friends. I think he’ll be cool, honestly. Just try not to trip and land on his dick and you should be golden.’ 

He took one last deep breath as he sat down on the black leather beside his one-time lover.

“So, Ashton...I...listen, I’m sorry that I broke my phone and made you think I’d ghosted you. I’m just an idiot that dropped his phone outside Sainsbury’s. And I’m really sorry I didn’t recognise you straight away, I was just expecting someone I hadn’t, and your hair, and glasses, and-” Michael could feel himself starting to babble but he couldn’t stop himself; he was so desperate for Ashton to like him. He was trying not to think about why it was this important to him. 

Ashton held his hand up to stop him with a small smile. “Michael, it’s okay.”  

Michael stopped short in his unravelling with a look of surprise. “It is?”

Ashton’s smile grew wider. “Yeah. I was just a bit blindsided, and I was hurt at the time back then, you know? But you explained, you apologised, and you seem like a nice guy. Luke sure can’t talk you up enough, and I trust him. I have no reason not to believe this is gonna be all good.” 

Michael blinked, unsure if this was too good to be true. “Yeah? So...we’re good? You’re gonna...stay?”

Ashton relaxed back into his seat, toeing his shoes off and under the coffee table. “If that’s okay with you, yeah. We’re both grown ups; we can keep it platonic and put the past behind us, right? Friends?”

Michael nodded, trying to hide the gulp in his throat. “Yeah, of course. Right. Great. Friends.” He could definitely do this.

***

He could definitely not do this. 

It’d been a long one month, two weeks and three days of trying to convince himself that he didn’t want to be anything more than Ashton’s friend and roommate. 

Some days, Michael thought it was possible to put those lingering feelings away and focus on their blossoming platonic relationship. After all, Ashton was everything most people could ever want in a flatmate. He was tidy, considerate, fairly quiet and respectful of personal boundaries. The slightly older man was also great company. Michael has had many pleasant conversations with him over breakfast and in the evenings before they went to bed. 

As lovely as all of that was, Michael had started questioning if it was worth the growing ache in chest for more. Each new thing he learnt about Ashton made him more sure that he was probably the closest thing to the perfect man that Michael would ever know. It was a cruel twist of fate that had meant his one opportunity to have Ashton for himself had slipped through his fingers, quite literally. He cursed himself on a daily basis for that one clumsy moment when he’d fumbled pulling his old phone from his too-tight jeans outside the supermarket and had been forced to watch his only chance with Ashton sink into a muddy puddle. 

Whatever higher powers existed had been even less kind to have that strong, gorgeous, well-hung man turn up on Michael’s doorstep months later, as his only hope of being able to keep the flat he’d grown to love. 

Every day since then, seemed to have presented a new challenge or torture. First it was the tight t-shirts and vests Ashton wore more often than not. They accentuated every muscle of the raven-haired man’s torso and displayed his strong biceps in all their glory. 

Then came the sleepy morning routine they’d subconsciously fallen into. Ashton would emerge from his room in nothing but his loose grey sweats and crooked glasses, his hair ruffled and his eyes heavily lidded, before joining Michael for a hasty breakfast which usually consisted of cereal or toast and mug of strong coffee. It was during these sluggish mornings when they’d started to bond over their mutual love of crime dramas and fantasy movies, among other things. That had naturally led to evening-long Criminal Minds marathons whole weekends debating whether the Lord of the Rings movies or the Harry Potter movies were the better adaptations of their original books. Those playful arguments had spilled over into text messages now, so Michael couldn’t even escape his torturous living situation when he went to work. 

Despite all of that hardship, the most latest and arguably the toughest challenge Michael found himself facing, was Ashton’s morning yoga. At first, the older man had kept that part of his morning routine confined to his bedroom. For some reason or another, over the last week or so, Ashton had decided that the living area was a more suitable location for this activity. 

If Michael thought that sleepy, shirtless morning Ashton was hot, then sleepy, shirtless morning Ashton doing the ‘downward dog’ was positively off the fucking scale. The way his large hands pressed into the yoga mat and the way his strong arms and legs tensed as he straightened his back and pushed his arse up into the air lingered in Michael’s mind all day. These images often flickered through his mind at night too, when he was alone in his bed with nothing but his hand for company. 

Deciding that a little get together with some friends would help dispel some of the tension, Michael floats the idea of asking Calum and Luke over for a ‘lads night’. Ashton had agreed easily, being a generally social person, he’d seemed enthusiastic about the possibility of hosting a mini party. 

A group message is created and it doesn’t take long to settle on the following Friday night for beer, snacks and a FIFA tournament. 

Ashton seemed to have been looking forward to it, often mentioning how excited he was to get to know Calum better and asking Michael to help him decide between certain snacks to purchase for the occasion. 

All in all, Michael was proud of himself for the idea, focusing on hosting a couple of friends had certainly given both him and Ashton something new to focus on. 

It was only when Friday arrived that Michael started to doubt his plan. Watching Ashton arrange plates of snacks on the kitchen counter, with the cutest concentration face he’d ever seen, started to make Michael wish they were spending the evening alone instead. He quickly pushes the thought of his head, berating himself for thinking something so stupid. It’s not like anything could happen between them even if they were alone, they were roommates now, that’s where their relationship ends. 

“So....” Ashton broke the silence enveloping the flat as he finished pouring a bag of cheesy Doritos into a bowl. “Did you finally solve the mystery of who was stealing people’s shit from your fridge at work?” 

Michael was caught off guard by the question. He’d been watching Ashton so intently that he momentarily forgot about everything else. It took him a moment to remember that he’d been keeping Ashton up to date with the ongoing lunch burglar drama at the DIY store he worked at. “Oh, umm no, not yet! But Brenda finally told Linda to stick her fake friendship where the sun doesn’t shine.” 

A genuinely delighted smile burst into Ashton’s face as he headed into the living room area. “Good for her! Linda sounds like a bitch…” 

It really meant a lot to Michael that Ashton took such an interest in his work life. The fact that he cared so much about people he didn’t know, but was aware they meant a lot to Michael, was also heartwarming. 

Before Michael could go into more detail about the break time drama, a knock at the front door interrupted him. “Oh yay! Our first guest!” Ashton beamed, jogging off towards the front door to greet Calum.

***

As soon as the beer and wine had started flowing, Michael’s ever-present pining for Ashton dulled to an almost non existent haze at the edges of his mind. Sure, his knees felt weak every time Ashton flashes him that dopey smile of his and he might have blushed whenever their knees touched as they competed against each other in a thrilling game of virtual soccer. 

That was all better than his usual all-consuming lust, so Michael was somewhat proud of himself. He even managed to surprise the urge to let Ashton win their game, and was almost smug when his player sent the football flying past Ashton’s keeper to secure a 2-1 win. 

“Motherfucker!” Ashton grumbled, throwing his control pad into the sofa as he fixed Michael with look that was almost definitely the hottest gaze he’d ever been caught under. “I’m gonna get you for that, Clifford.” It sounded like a promise that held more weight than the simple challenge to a rematch it was probably meant to be. 

Michael had to fight back a whimper, staring into Ashton’s beautiful hazel eyes this closely was too much. The intensity of it all rendered him momentarily speechless and he was all-too glad when Ashton got to his feet and headed for the kitchen. 

“I need to drown my sorrows.” The black-haired man laughed, breaking the tension that had descended on them before heading off to the kitchen. Ignoring the knowing looks from his two friends, Michael picked up Ashton’s discarded controller and tossed it to Luke. “Your turn to face me, Hemmings. Let’s see if I can beat my all time record of beating you 6-1” 

“Fuck off! You have never beat me that badly.” Luke huffed, picking up the control pad that had just landed in his lap. “I’m gonna enjoy kicking your ass in front of your new boy-“

“Shit, we’re out of beers already!” Ashton’s interruption came at exactly the right moment in Michael’s opinion. He really hadn’t wanted Luke to finish that sentence and now he wouldn’t get the chance. 

“I’ll go to the shop for some more, does anyone have specific requests?” The eldest friend asked as he traipsed back into the living room area. 

“Oh you don’t have to go!” Michael shrugged, “you should stay here, we’ll send Luke instead, he sucks at this game anyway.” 

Luke scoffed, waving his hand defensively. “You’re not getting out of playing me that easily!” 

Ashton laughed, his eyes sparkling as he checked that his wallet was still in his jeans pocket. “It’s fine. I’m already out of the competition and I wouldn’t want to give anyone else an unfair advantage.” 

Maybe it was just the effects of the beers he’d already drank, but Michael could have sworn that Ashton’s gaze lingered on him a little longer than it probably should have. “You’re too nice.” The blonde beamed fondly, “I’ll transfer you my half of the money in the morning, unless you wanna take a tenner from my room?” 

“Oh is that an open invitation?” Calum asked, a lazy smile curling the corners of his lips. “You owe me at least that from when we bet on whether or not Luke could drink that tzatziki sauce last time.” 

“Fuck off, Calum! I don’t owe you a penny, I won that bet, Luke’s a fucking wuss…” 

“Hey! I am not!” Luke interrupted incredulously. 

“Okay, I need to hear that whole story when I get back!” Ashton giggled. “I’ll just grab a case of whatever beer is the cheapest though, yeah.” 

There was a general murder of agreement before Ashton headed out of the front door. Michael fond him watching until Ashton had disappeared into the hallway, swinging the front door closed behind him. “He’s so nice…” The blonde sighed dreamily, still gazing at the closed front door. “Don’t you think he’s just the best?” 

Calum and Luke exchanged a ‘is he for real’ glance before silently agreeing that this was the perfect opportunity to tease Michael about his blatant love for Ashton. 

“Yeah, he’s pretty special.” Calum agreed, smirking slyly. “You really can’t sing his praises highly enough, can you?” 

Shaking his head, Michael finally returned his attention to the TV. “You really can’t, he’s just so kind and sweet.” 

Calum nodded in agreement. “Not bad to look at either!” 

“Right?!” Michael giggled, oblivious to the fact that his tipsiness was making his lips too loose.  

“Hey Mike.” Luke cut in, reaching over to nudge his friend’s shoulder. “How’s being in love with your flatmate working out for you?” His conversational tone was entirely at odds with mischief in his eyes. It confused Michael but the youngest friend’s words were altogether too bold, a blatant overstep if ever there was one. 

Despite his inner rage at being called out like this, Michael fumbled, unable to cobble together an appropriate response. “Ugh, I don’t even… You’re so far-“ 

“There’s no point denying it anymore.” Calum chuckled, “I can feel the sexual tension between you two from across the hall!” 

“God, I bet it’s like watching a car crash, isn’t it?” Luke asked, picking up the bowl of M&M’s on the coffee table. “It’s horrific but you can’t tear your eyes away? Am I right?” 

Calum nodded. “It’s like watching a bad fucking soap opera.” 

Michael felt offended and embarrassed but still no words seemed to form coherently in his mouth. 

“At least it’s a bit less tragic now we can be sure it’s not entirely one sided!” Luke stage whispered with a calculating look on his face as he met Calum’s gaze.

“Yeah, it’s mildly less irritating!” Calum laughed. 

“Wait, what do you mean?” Michael sputtered. “Ash and I agreed that our one night stand is ancient history, we’re not-“ 

“Oh puh-lease!” Calum scoffed. “If you two haven’t fucked again by the end of this month I’ll eat my bucket hat.”

***

Ashton had returned with a case of twenty four bottles of beer and as a result, lad’s night had ended up running into the early hours of Saturday morning. 

Having drank his way through more than his fair share of that case, Michael didn’t end up rising from his pit until noon had long since been and gone. 

“Ah you are still alive!” Ashton chuckled, tearing his attention away from the TV to look at his flatmate. 

This was definitely not fucking fair. Michael didn’t need to look in a mirror to know that he looked exactly as he felt - rough as all hell. Ashton on the other hand, still looked as dreamy as ever. His black curls, although slightly ruffled and fluffy, were still on the stylish side of messy and he’d somehow found the motivation to get dressed, too, something Michael wasn’t even contemplating.

 “I’m glad you’re up now, though, I wondered if you had anything planned for dinner?” Ashton asked, peering at Michael from behind his horn-rimmed glasses. 

The thought of food made Michael’s stomach lurch unpleasantly and he had to fight to hold back a wretch. 

Ashton gives a sympathetic giggle before pausing his show and rising to his feet. “I’ll take that as a no. Don’t worry, buddy. I have a plan but first…” he jogged over to the kitchen and flicked on the kettle. “Why don't you go and take a shower while I make you a tea? You’ll feel better after that and then we will talk dinner!” 

As Michael plods over to the bathroom, he shoots one last look over at Ashton, busily preparing mugs on the countertop and tries his absolute hardest to remember a time that he wasn’t in love with his flatmate.

***

As always, Ashton was proven to be 100% correct. 

Michael felt a million times better once he was showered and snuggled on the sofa with a mug of steaming tea. 

“You look a little more alive now.” Ashton smirked, sparing Michael a sideways glance before returning his attention to ‘Law and Order’. “Do you think you can handle talking about dinner yet?” 

The ache in Michael’s stomach felt a lot more like hunger than it had done when he first woke up and the thought of food didn’t make him feel like throwing up anymore so he nodded. “What’re your plans, chef?” 

Ashton’s cheeks turned a rosy pink as he shrugged. “I couldn’t bear to see you try to cobble together another freezer meal so I thought you might like me to teach you a simple pasta dish?” He suggested, his tone a little shy like he was worried what Michael’s reaction would be. “I’ll do most of the work, but I thought if you helped out, you’ll learn how to make something other than Super Noodles.” 

Michael couldn’t even be mad at the subtle dig at his cooking skills. He was terrible in the kitchen and it was just a little embarrassing that Ashton had noticed just how dyer his cooking skills were. “When you say simple, do you mean like a recipe and technique you can write on the back of a postage stamp because that’s about the level of my skill.” 

Rolling his eyes, Ashton casually threw his arm around Michael’s shoulders. “Don't be so hard in yourself, buddy! I once taught Luke how to make scrambled eggs on the stove so he didn’t have to be a savage and use the microwave anymore, so there’s definitely hole for you, I promise.” 

Michael tried to focus on the hat Ashton was saying but all that his slow, hungover brain could process was that he was pressed against his stupidly gorgeous flat mate’s side. The heady smell of Ashton’s minty body wash and the soft scent of his fabric conditioner felt intoxicating and Michael could do nothing besides allow his head to drop into Ashton’s shoulder. 

To the blonde’s surprise, Ashton shuffle away or call him out on it. He simply rests his own head on Michael’s and laughs. “We’ll make a chef of you yet, Clifford.” He promised.

***

They spent a good three hours, watching reruns of C.S.I and making plans to start a Marvel movie marathon after dinner. They sat close to each other the whole time and Michael noticed Ashton watching him from the corner of his eye on at least three separate occasions. 

By the time Ashton suggested they start making dinner, Michael had gone over his conversation with Calum and Luke the previous night, about sixty times. His two best friends had convinced him that Ashton wanted Michael just as much as Michael wanted Ashton. 

“The way he looks at you, dude.” Calum laughed. “He’s practically imagining you naked at any given moment. It’s getting uncomfortable.” 

“Don’t be stupid!” Michael reprimanded. “He doesn’t think of me like that anymore. We had a one night thing months ago. That’s it. Nothing else will ever happen between us again, we’re just flatmates.” 

Calum and Luke exchanged a sceptical glance before bursting into laughter. 

“Yeah right!” Luke huffed sarcastically. “Do you know how many times I hear your name come out of his mouth at work these days?” 

Michael’s cheeks reddened. He had no idea that Ashton talked about him at work. It felt kind of surreal to imagine his roommate relaying snippets of their home life to Luke. 

“Let me guess!” Calum interrupted. “About a thousand…” 

Nodding, Luke drained the last of his beer. “Yeah and that’s just before lunch!”

“Honestly, if they don’t bang soon I’m gonna knock their heads together.” Calum sighed. “Did you know Michael comes over to my place most mornings so he doesn’t have to watch Ashton do topless yoga?” He asked Luke disbelievingly. “I want my lie-in’s back!” 

At the time, Michael hadn’t believed his friends. He didn’t think that there was even a remote possibility that Ashton still carried a torch for him. But in the clear light of day, Michael couldn’t deny that all the signs were there… perhaps there could be more between them after all. 

He followed Ashton into the kitchen, rolling up the sleeves of his grey oversized sweater, trying to clear his mind enough to be able to process learning a new skill. 

“Okay, this is like the simplest recipe I know but it’s delicious and tastes so much better than the freezer junk you usually make for yourself.” Ashton rambles as he grabs a saucepan and a frying pan from the shelf near the cooker.  

“Hey, freezer junk has been my lifeline on many occasions, I’d probably be dead without it.” Michael scoffed, only half joking. 

Ashton rolled his eyes fondly, handing Michael the saucepan. “Fill this with water for me and then put it on the back hob, while it’s boiling I’ll teach you how to make the sauce.” 

As Michael carried out his instructions, he couldn’t help but admire the concentration on Ashton’s face when he began rifling through the fridge and cupboard, pulling out various ingredients. 

Once the pan of water was safely on the job Ashton had indicated, Michael returned his full attention to the slightly older man.

“Right, the first thing we do for the sauce is put 2-3 tablespoons of olive oil into this cold pan.” Ashton explained, pushing his glasses up his nose a little, reminding Michael of a hot English teacher or something… fuck, it was already difficult enough for Michael to concentrate without random fantasies about Ashton fucking him over a desk running through his mind. “Usually I’d never add oil to a cold pan, but for this particular recipe, it works because if the pan was already hot, the first ingredients would burn before the rest was in there.” 

There was something about the way Ashton talked with such passion and confidence that made Michael wish he was confident enough to just drag him to the bedroom, his need for more from Ashton becoming unbearable. He forced himself to nod, pretending like he understood when really, Ashton could be telling him absolutely anything right now, and Michael would not know the difference because all he can think about is the way Ashton had groaned at the feeling of Michael’s nails running down his back and how he’d growled Michael’s name as he neared his climax. 

“Can you pass me the basil?” Ashton asked, pulling Michael out of his memory. 

The blonde surveyed the ingredients on the countertop. Luckily he recognised most of them, so he picked up the basil by process of elimination and handed it to Ashton like a dutiful sous chef. 

Ashton looked mildly impressed as he took the bag of basil and took out handful. “We want about ten or so decent sized leaves and we tear them in half before adding them to the oil, okay?” He waited for Michael’s nod of understanding before tearing the leaves in his hand and dropping them into the pan. 

“Then we need to chop 6-8 cloves of garlic directly into the pan.” Michael looked back at the little stack of ingredients and frowned, noticing an instant problem. “We only have one clove of garlic…” he pointed out, biting his bottom lip worriedly. 

Ashton burst out laughing as he picked the garlic up from the counter. “This is a whole bulb, babe…” he explained, apparently not even noticing his use of the supposedly accidental pet name. 

It was difficult for Michael to feel too offended by Ashton’s laughter when he’d just called him babe, though, so he let it go, focusing on the term of endearment, no matter how accidental it might have been, rather than the humour at his dumb mistake. 

“It’s the smaller, wedge shaped pieces that are cloves, please don’t mix that up if you make this without my help.” Ashton chuckled, breaking six cloves from the bulb and picking up a tiny knife he’d laid out next to the oven. 

“Don’t laugh at me!” Michael pouted. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I have no idea what I’m doing. I almost never do.” 

Ashton gave him a fond smile. “You’re not alone in that, I promise…” 

It was hard not to feel comforted by Ashton’s lopsided smile, so most of his embarrassment slipped away fairly quickly. 

“I just chop off the little hard parts at the bottom of each clove and peel the skin off before chopping it directly into the pan. Don’t chop it on a board or you’ll lose some of the flavour.” Ashton explained carefully. 

Michael watched with interest as Ashton demonstrated his technique with the first two cloves. He handed the third to Michael along with the knife and gestures for him to add it to the pan. 

It took him probably three times longer to chop that one clove into the pan, than it took Ashton to do the first two, but he was encouraging and patient. The older man praised Michael for completing the tiny task, seeming genuinely impressed.

Once all six cloves of garlic had been added to the pan, Ashton turned on the hob into a medium heat. “Okay, so we stir this together for about five minutes. Can you do that while I open the tin of tomatoes?” 

Michael nodded, picking up the wooden spoon from the counter and storing the simmering ingredients together. It already kinda smelt like his favourite Italian restaurant and his tummy grumbled impatiently. 

“One thing I should specify is, you need to use tins of whole tomatoes, not chopped.” Ashton explained as he poured the first tin of tomatoes into the sizzling pan. “Can you pour in the second one?” 

Michael did as he was told and watched as Ashton squished the whole tomatoes down and stored them into the red eat of the ingredients. 

“Mmm it smells so good.” Michael sighed, breathing in the delicious smells. 

Ashton looked proud of himself as he offered a smile. “Can you take over the stirring while I add the salt?” 

Michael took the spoon from Ashton, ensuring that their fingers brushed. 

There was a moment of eye contact and a silent shifting of tension between the two of them. If ever there was a time to bite the bullet and kiss Ashton, now would be it. His nerves failed him though and he dropped his gaze to the simmering pan. 

Instead of moving around Michael to pick up the salt as he’d done for the tomatoes, Ashton simply reached past the blonde, pushing him against the counter momentarily before he pulled back to add the salt to the pan. 

If Michael had been fully alert, he’d have recognised that for the flirtatious move it was meant to be, as it was, he put it down to a simple lack of judgement on Ashton’s part and continued to concentrate on stirring the sauce.

***

The tomato pasta tasted as good as it had smelt. It turned out to be exactly what Michael’s hungover body had needed. 

He and Ashton had eaten it at their little table in the kitchen. Conversation had flowed freely as always, skirting around flirtatious at times but never quite enough for Michael to pluck up the courage to take things further. 

“The only thing that would have made that better would have been a nice glass of white wine, but I thought you were still a bit too delicate for that.” Ashton giggled as he picked up the empty plates from the table and carried them over to the kitchen sink. 

“Hey, you drank as much as I did!” Michael pouted, picking up the empty glasses and following Ashton to the sink. “How’re you not hungover.” 

Ashton chuckled as he ran the water into the washing up bowl. “You’re just a lightweight, Mikey.” 

It wasn’t the first time Michael had been called that so it didn’t take him by surprise. He laughed it off as he grabbed a tea cloth ready to dry the dishes that Ashton washed. “One day you’ll stop teasing me, Irwin.” 

Ashton shook his head. “Don’t count on it, babe… you’re too easy to make fun of, that’s not my fault.” 

There it was again, that little slip, a fond nickname that roommates probably shouldn’t have for one another. 

Quickly pulling himself together, Michael nudged his flatmate in the arm, just hard enough to pull a surprised “oof” from him. 

“Careful now.” Ashton warned jokingly. “You don’t want to start a scuffle you can’t finish, Clifford.” 

Michael threw caution to the wind and nudged Ashton again, deliberately keeping his gaze on the plate he was drying. 

“That’s it!” Ashton huffed, scooping up a handful of bubbles and swiping them across Michael’s face. 

The blonde spluttered and shook his damp fringe out of his face before fixing Ashton with a glare. A few acts of retaliation flashed through his mind. He could have whipped Ashton with the tea cloth or splashed him with dishwater but none of that happened. 

There was something about the way Ashton’s eyes were sparkling, almost like he was daring Michael to do the thing he’d been too scared to do this whole time. He refused to let another opportunity pass like before when they were making the pasta sauce. Michael tried not to overthink as he stepped forward and cupped Ashton’s face with one hand before leaning in and kissing him. 

The raven-haired man’s lips felt every bit as soft as they had done on that night seven months ago. Ashton didn’t kiss back with the same hunger and desperation that he had done back then, though. 

Michael stepped back, feeling his cheeks heat up in an embarrassed blush. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that, Ash…” 

Ashton bit his bottom lip between his teeth as he stared at Michael intently. “No…” He said, finally breaking his silence. “You just shouldn’t have waited so long.” 

The older man’s words had barely penetrated Michael’s brain before he was being ��pressed against the counter behind him. Ashton’s lips were on his again but this time they were working just like they had been that night at Ashton’s old place. 

The intense kiss pulled a whine from Michael and he automatically wrapped his arms around the older man’s neck. 

It started as a fairly simple kiss but it quickly began to build momentum. It was the crack in the dam holding back all of their emotions for all this time. 

“Ashton…” Michael gasped as they pulled apart for air. “I know we said we should just be friends but…” 

“Fuck being just friends.” Ashton mumbled as he worked kisses down Michael's neck. “I can’t pretend anymore.” 

Those words were all Michael needed to hear in order to relax into this. “I can’t tell you how bad I’ve wanted this.” He whispered. 

Ashton slipped one of his thighs between Michael’s as he nipped at the blonde’s neck. “I think I have some idea.” He groaned. “I never stopped thinking of the way you moaned my name that night, Michael.” The older man confessed, pulling back just enough to look Michael in the eye. “Wanted it again since the moment I walked in here.” 

The way Ashton was looking at him like he wanted to devour every inch of Michael, had the blonde melting. “Me too.” He crashed his lips against Ashton’s in another desperate kiss as he subconsciously rutted against the older man’s thigh. After the months Michael had spent feeling kind of lonely and touch-starved, the tiny amount of friction was enough to have him whimpering against Ashton’s lips. 

“Uh, you sound and taste even better than I remember.” Ashton muttered, pressing his thigh harder against Michael’s crotch to pull another little gasp from him. 

“Ashton! Fuck, please, I…” Michael’s head tipped back as he lost his fight to regain any sort of control over his own body. He was in Ashton’s control now, and Ashton knew it.  

“Come on…” Ashton coaxed, stepping back from Michael as he took both of his hands in his to pull him away from the kitchen counter. Michael whined high in his throat as he easily followed where Ashton led. 

Michael had hardly been into Ashton’s bedroom since he had helped him move some furniture the day he moved in; it had almost felt too intimate to go into Ashton’s personal space given the history between them. Seeing it now, cozy and dark with slithers of light coming through the window from the lamp posts outside, gave Michael a chill; it felt like Ashton was sharing a secret with him.

He followed Ashton’s lead dutifully all the way to the bed, accepting the deep kiss Ashton offered him as a reward, before the older man peeled his oversized sweater from his torso, breaking away to pull it over Michael’s head. Michael wanted more contact, but was disappointed when Ashton gently but decisively laid him down among the crisp sheets, instead. 

Ashton pulled his own t-shirt over his head in one fluid motion and flicked the lamp on his bedside table on, bathing the bed in a warm glow that made Michael feel like he was in a dream. 

Michael gazed in wonder at Ashton as he climbed into bed beside him, letting his eyes travel all over his arms and chest, taking in the extra tone and definition in his body since the last time he’d been able to stare at him like this; clearly, the yoga was doing more than just allowing Ashton to ‘find his centre’. 

He didn’t think he was anything special to look at, but he could see Ashton mirroring his own actions, eyes full of lust searching all over the parts of Michael’s body he could see, and even his gaze lingering on a part he couldn’t.

 “Ash,” Michael breathed out, surprising himself with how far gone he sounded already. “Take ‘em off, I wanna…” He trailed off as Ashton’s eyes snapped up to meet his own, holding eye contact for only a moment before he nodded almost imperceptibly, shuffling down the bed and taking hold of the waistband of Michael’s sweatpants. He returned his gaze to the pale man before him, biting his own lip as he allowed his fingertips to graze the skin of Michael’s hips. “These too?” Ashton questioned in a low voice as he brushed the fabric of Michael’s underwear.    

“Oh God, yeah”, Michael answered, squirming slightly from the infuriatingly gentle feel of Ashton’s touch. Ashton didn’t need to be told twice. Michael shivered with the feeling of being suddenly completely exposed as his sweatpants and underwear hit the carpet. Michael looked up at Ashton through his lashes, braced up on his knees in his black, ripped jeans. “You’d better be planning on losing those in the next second, Irwin.”

Ashton smirked as he undid his jeans. “And I mean your underwear, too!” Michael amended hastily, hungry to see if his memory of Ashton’s body was accurate. 

The dark-haired man’s smirk grew wider at Michael’s clarification, pulling his zip down and allowing his jeans to fall open, exposing only bare skin beneath. “Underwear?” 

Michael’s jaw dropped a little, prompting a deliciously filthy laugh from his roommate. “For the record, roomie - I don’t wear underwear.” Ashton winked as he yanked his jeans down as far as he could in his current position, before wriggling around to pull them off completely. Michael was pleased to see that, if anything, his memory had been selling Ashton short. Blame it on the alcohol. 

Michael didn’t know how to decide on what to do first; on one hand, he wanted to kiss Ashton non-stop for the rest of eternity, but on the other hand, if he didn’t get filled up in the next 10 minutes, he was definitely going to throw a tantrum. Luckily, he realised, it probably wasn’t up to him. All of his experience with Ashton so far told him that the older man would definitely be taking the lead, and this was definitely not a problem for Michael. Indeed, it had worked out very well for him last time, when his staff night out started at the bar and ended with Ashton eating him out like his life depended on it. 

“What are you thinking?” Ashton’s sultry voice broke through his thoughts, apparently wanting a coherent answer despite the fact that he had just begun to run his fingers up and down Michael’s sensitive, pale inner thighs. Michael let out a shuddery breath as he tried to use his words to tell Ashton he wanted anything and everything possible between them, right there and then. Perhaps the way his cock twitched when Ashton let one his nails run over a faded stretch mark right at the base of one of his thighs would speak for itself. 

“Maybe we should get right to, huh, gorgeous?” Ashton teased, withdrawing his touches to lean towards his bedside table. He pulled open the top drawer, fumbling only for a moment until he found what he was looking for. The lube and condom were dropped carelessly onto the mattress as he shut the drawer again, returning his attention to the man almost-beneath him immediately. “We’ve got plenty of time for all the other goods stuff; right now, I need to fuck you, and I know you need me to fuck you...don’t you?”

Michael wondered at what point in his life he had begun to communicate exclusively in whines, but Ashton seemed to be into it, so it didn’t matter. Michael watched impatiently as Ashton popped the top on the half-empty bottle of lube, wasting no time in squirting a generous amount onto two fingers on his right hand and pulling Michael’s leg fully around his hip with his left.

Michael’s heart jumped as much as his cock when Ashton breathed gently on the lube coating his fingers in an attempt to warm it slightly before he brought them straight down to Michael’s bare hole, rubbing over it in a firm circle.

Michael was glad he didn’t have the problem of not wanting his roommate to hear him getting fucked, anymore, as he let out his loudest, neediest whine yet. Ashton proved he had meant what he said about not taking their time with their second tryst, sinking his index finger inside Michael in one fluid motion. Before Michael had got to 10, Ashton was opening him up at a steady, delicious pace and was driving Michael crazy in record time. 

Michael wouldn’t claim to be a pornstar or anything, but he didn’t normally have a problem with stamina. If Ashton kept it up like this, though, Michael was in danger of coming before Ashton’s thick cock got any closer to him, and that was unacceptable.

“Ash, please, I can’t...I want, ne-your cock, please!” Michael cried out as Ashton probed his spot one last time before immediately acquiescing to Michael’s begging. Michael wriggled at the loss of Ashton’s fingers, but took comfort in the fact that Ashton was already tearing the condom packet open. 

Michael watched in awe-tinged anticipation as Ashton gave himself a couple of loose tugs once he had the condom on, before closing in on his lover once more, making sure Michael was laid comfortably on the pillows as he positioned himself over him. Michael clung to Ashton’s shoulders as he lined himself up, just resting the tip on Michael’s slick hole for a moment.

Ashton’s hazel eyes bore down into Michael’s green ones with a soft fire as he raised one hand to brush Michael’s fringe out of his flushed face. Michael let out a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding as Ashton pushed in - slowly, but all the way.. He felt like he was sinking and floating simultaneously, and wrapped his arms around Ashton’s neck to anchor himself here, with him, in this moment. 

Ashton pressed his face deep into Michael’s neck, kissing and sucking his way up towards Michael’s ear. “You good?” He murmured, shifting his hips a miniscule amount. “Yeah,” Michael breathed, “S’good, please…”.

With a final nip to Michael’s neck, Ashton pulled back slightly and began to move his hips properly, his cock sliding halfway out each time as he began to build a steady rhythm for them. Michael felt that perhaps in their sexual relationship so far, he was earning himself the reputation of a bit of a Pillow Princess, and so he began to move his own hips to meet Ashton’s building thrusts. Ashton groaned, long and loud, at the heightened sensations Michael’s movements brought, and they began to work together towards their goal. 

Suddenly, Ashton’s mouth was crowding his, his tongue sliding into his mouth in a glorious kiss that Michael never wanted to end. He couldn’t tell if it had been 10 minutes or 10 hours when he felt that familiar feeling begin to bubble in the lower stomach. Ashton had begun to up the pace of his thrusts, his hips occasionally stuttering as groans rumbled low in his throat, so Michael knew they were on the same page. 

“Ash,” He murmured in the millisecond between kisses. “Touch me, please, I’m getting so-” Michael broke off into a moan as Ashton was already wrapping a firm hand around his neglected cock, stroking it with determination and flicking his thumb over Michael’s dripping head. “You close, baby?” He murmured, eyes drifting over Michael’s face and the arousal present there. Michael was starting to writhe slightly and his head was flopping to the side on the pillow, but Ashton wanted his attention. With his free hand, he took Michael’s chin and turned his head to meet Ashton’s stare. The moment Michael was forced to meet his strong, heated gaze, his hazel eyes boring down on him with such intensity, Michael felt the kick of heat and it was all over. He cried out Ashton’s name and let out a series of curses and moans as he came, hard and hot over Ashton’s hand and their sweaty stomachs in equal measure.

Michael hadn’t finished himself before he felt Ashton taken by surprise, as well; his hips shooting forward to fill him to the hilt for the last time as he spilt into the condom, releasing Michael’s chin to brace himself through his orgasm on the pillows. “Michael, fuck!”

Michael regained enough control to watch Ashton’s face through hooded eyes as he came, moaning and unrestrained as he finished. He thought he looked heavenly. 

As they both fought to catch their breath, Ashton pulled out gingerly, releasing Michael from his grip as he moved away to remove and dispose of the condom. Michael wriggled in place, trying to get comfortable to recover from what he hoped would be the first of many. Ashton came back from the bin in the corner and flopped back down, alongside Michael now, lifting his arm to allow Michael to snuggle in under it when he wrapped it around him. “So…” He said, sounding casual as you like. “About the whole platonic, friendly, roommate thing…”

masterlist for the 5sos ficwriters collab  • my masterlist

#5sos writing collab #my writing #mermaidcashton #maluminspace #5sos fic #5 seconds of summer fic #5sos #5 seconds of summer #mashton #mashton fic #mashton smut #mashton fluff #Michael 5sos #ashton 5sos #Michael 5sos fic #ashton 5sos fic #ashton irwin #Michael clifford #Michael Clifford fic #ashton Irwin fic

[fall-to-rise-98]

Divergent, Eric+OC

Kingdom Fall:  Amity Reject

Before choosing Dauntless at her choosing ceremony and becoming a true Dauntless member Amity-born Anna never felt accepted in her faction, but she took a leap of faith and learned fast how to make it through initiation. She took her aptitude test and got Divergent though, having shown an affinity for three other factions: Abnegation, Erudite, and Candor. Peace was something she wasn’t accustom to and she had been known to become violent at times, so that ruled out Amity. Dauntless was for the brave and courageous, which she could manage. Although some fears she thought seemed permanently etched onto her soul. Before choosing Dauntless Anna had also never known true love, then she met Eric. The cold, stone-faced leader of the Dauntless initiates. They butted heads from the moment they met with Anna’s sarcastic, cynical personality and his quick temper. It took some time for Anna to break through Eric’s metal armor and as dangerous as she knew it was to be near him, her being Divergent, it excited her all the same. Her life was at risk being around Eric, but this was what she wanted when she left behind Amity: the chance to finally be free. If she had to die eventually, just for the sweet taste of freedom, then she was determined to go out with a bang. 

A/N: Each post for this story may be short or long, depending on how much creative juice I can squeeze out. Each post may or may not be in order, just enjoy the ride. I will update as often as I can, since I am also writing another fanfic for Little Vampire on my main fanfiction account here  ⎯ https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13791424/1/Sweet-But-Psycho. Also, trigger warnings abound: vulgar language, physical abuse, mental abuse, adult themes (y’all know what that means), mentions of suicide (won’t go into detail), death, and of course  ⎯ violence. 

The Choosing Ceremony: Part 1

Raise Hell

Bored. 

Bored. 

Bored. 

Anna felt her eyelids trying to shut of their own accord, thought she chanted in her mind: stay awake, stay awake. 

Stay, a-fucking-wake. 

She wasn’t quite comfortable though, the position she was in. Wedged between her step-father (abusive asshole) and her mother (the lamb in the lion’s den) in a row of stiff, plastic chairs. Surrounded by smiling, juiced-up crowd of other Amity citizens. 

Fools, the lot of them. 

Hopped up on happy serum. Everyone always gets a dose of the sickly sweet, bright pink liquid once a week. It was a potent potion made to “keep the sins of anger at bay,” which Anna found absolutely ridiculous. 

It felt like a violation of free will. 

She happened to like the idea of free will. It was something she longed for and had wanted for many years. Especially when her mother Kimberly decided she wanted to settle down with the man who tormented them both on a daily basis, which Anna could not stand. At all. 

Sometimes she would lay in her bed at night, unable to sleep and covered in bruises, feeling sorry for her mother. Sometimes Anna thought her mother would have been better off growing a spine, just like she did. 

She didn’t want to accept the abuse any longer, especially after the incident almost a year ago on her sixteenth birthday. It was the most terrifying moment she ever experienced in her life. 

The night was rainy, but it wasn’t noiseless. She could hear the faint melody of the Amity sector. The shrill singing of small children, the merry laughter of adults. It was all outside of her house though. There was a different kind of noise inside her home, where happiness and joy seemed a million miles away. 

It was the sound of silence, a calm before the storm. The atmosphere in the house was thick and could not be cut so easily with a knife. A heavy, ominous presence hung in between the casual “pass the salt” or “how was school today?” chatter. No “did you have a good day?” 

No “happy birthday, sweetie.” 

Andrew sat at her left at the kitchen table during dinner, as quiet and menacing as a snake slithering in the grassy fields. Waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike. 

Strike you dead, if by the look on his face. 

Something was getting under his skin bad and her mother was doing nothing except cowering in her seat to her right, trying to keep up a happy charade with a fake smile plastered on her face. It faltered often, but no one ever commented. 

No one cared enough to speak out and ask some serious questions. 

To involve themselves in our family drama, to help. 

Help was not something the Amity community usually gave out, from kindness of their hearts or just out of pure curiosity. Why does Anna keep to herself and always has a negative outlook on life? Why does Kimberly never talk to anyone? 

To everyone else, Andrew is viewed as an angel. A model citizen with a charming attitude and good soul. 

If only the Amity people would stop turning a blind eye to everything around them. Maybe the world would really be a better place. Everyone just might be able to get along. 

Then Andrew turned to her with a smile on his face, it was sudden and filled with dazzling teeth. He was a handsome man for his age, mid-forties with a head full of thick salt and pepper hair. Green eyes the color of jade, staring her down with malice. Hardened and angry. 

What had she done this time? She was being responsive to every question or comment, asked by either of them. Eating her dinner quietly otherwise, head bent down to avoid confrontation. It was a defense mechanism Anna knew worked best with Andrew and most of the time she tried hard to keep her step-father placate. 

This was how you survived in her house. 

“How was your day, baby girl?” 

What. 

The. 

Fuck. 

Anna snapped to attention, her startled dark-blue eyes meeting the amused expression on Andrew’s face. She was taken aback at the pet name, one she hadn’t heard him use in years, and glanced at her mother. 

She hesitated, a pause of breath which irritated Andrew. 

Kimberly was staring at her second husband with the look of a frightened animal, gaping mouth and teary-eyed. There was something in her eyes, all wide and watery, that made Anna’s blood run cold. 

It was a look she only saw once. 

The first time Andrew took his anger out on them. 

But that was then and this is now. 

Andrew was glaring at Anna now, slamming his knife down on the table. “When I ask a question I expect you to know the answer immediately and respond back to me. Have we not had this conversation before?” 

Her mother surprised her. 

She spoke out against Andrew, although as timid and small as the plea was. 

“Andrew, don’t. Please.”

Andrew turned away from Anna then, but Anna knew it would only be brief and the strike would be swift. Once for speaking out of turn, across the mouth. 

Twice for telling him what to do, on the hand. 

Three times for standing up to him, which Anna only experienced one time. 

It made her angry. He shouldn’t be allowed to get away with this. Her fingers gripped tightly to her silverware as she studied the scene before her. 

Prepared to either watch as her step-father descended upon her mother or step in between the two with the threat of a studded belt across the ass. 

Andrew was satisfied only mildly when Kimberly shrunk even further into her chair and raised an eyebrow, “Why not? You never said anything when I brought it up before. So I obviously assumed I had the right to ask Anna herself.”

She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. 

What in the flying fuck was going on between these two? 

Something was off with both of them, a feeling of dread filling the pit of her stomach making it toss and turn the food contents she was previously piling down her throat. 

Though fear crept in there was also confusion and mild curiosity. Alarm bells rang off in her head though. Voices telling her to run away, get up from the table and run away, get away from the whole situation now. 

Kimberly glanced over at her daughter and choked on a sob, “Happy birthday. I love you, baby, I hope you know that.” 

She felt sick suddenly, then jumped to her feet at the feeling of a rough hand brushing her thigh. Anna felt the scream in her throat, but managed to keep it from filling the house. 

Andrew would not like that. 

It could have been a mistake. 

But he was grinning at her now, glancing from the expression on her face to the face of her mother. Kimberly felt anger course through her momentarily and she blurted out, “Stop it! Don’t you touch her like that.” 

In an instant, as fast as a lightning bolt appearing and disappearing, Andrew was on his feet with the knife and leaping over the table at Kimberly. 

Anna felt her vision blur for a moment, then go blood red at hearing her mother’s horrifying scream. She heard the plates fall from the table and shatter, heard the chair her mother was sitting in hit the ground with a thud as he tackled her to the floor. 

It filled her with absolute rage. 

Andrew had only intended on scaring Kimberly, threatening her with the knife against the throat, but enraged as Anna jumped onto his back he flung her off with ease. 

Then turned to her, a frightening smile on his face. 

The smile of a psychopath. 

“You see, I had a little talk with your mother the other night after dinner. It was really interesting. You left rather quickly, talking about how you were going to check up on a friend before bed. That was a mistake, you know. You have no friends.” 

Anna was winded, having hit the table with her shoulders which scraped it’s wooden legs across the oak flooring, and hitched a breath at Andrew’s words. At this point Kimberly was scrambling away, for the stairs, leaving Anna to fend for herself. 

Why wouldn’t her mother do something about this man? 

What was going on this time? 

“As you know your mother is 8 years older than I am and these past couple of years together have not suited her well. But you, my dear, have grown into a fine young woman and I feel it may be time for a change around here.” 

She scrambled to her feet, prepared now to defend herself until she couldn’t. 

This was one battle she wasn’t going down without a fight for. 

What needed to change was his ego, his pride. His sadistic cruelty. 

Andrew was faster, grabbing onto her legs as she started to run. He lunged at her like a football linebacker and they both fell to the floor. He laughed when she wriggled underneath him and fought to turn her on her back. 

“Come on, don’t you want to wrestle with your step-daddy?” 

Since then Anna began to train during her free time. Of course there was no use for gym equipment in Amity because of the farming business, but she had seen videos on her tablet (stolen from one of the Erudite-born at school) on how to build muscle and strength. 

Exercise videos that were played during health class, but not performed in the school. There was no physical education in her school that required actual physical labor. That was saved for after school. Chores, either at home or on the farm. 

She didn’t want to ever be put in that position again. Since that night Anna was preparing herself, physically and mentally, for the choosing ceremony. The choosing ceremony she was finally attending after six months of hard work and waiting. She would be free. 

She would finally be happy. 

Andrew was expecting her to remain in Amity, he had said so himself the night before, but Kimberly had not spoken a word in three days. 

Anna glanced back and forth between them both, hiding behind a curtain of pale blonde hair. It was freshly washed as of this morning and she was wearing tan shorts with a bright, yellow tank-top. She knew once she chose Dauntless she would be running towards the train with the other initiates, she always came to the ceremonies with her “family” and she loved watching the Dauntless run for the fast-moving locomotive. 

They were always shouting and screaming, but out of pure excitement. 

It was their new beginning and now it would be her new beginning. 

Although sitting quiet and stiff among the other Amity she was listening for the names of each new Dauntless initiate. 

Hardy, Ian. Candor.

Higgins, Samantha. Erudite.

Jonas, Zeke. Candor.

Larson, Holiday. Abnegation.

Maddox, Avery. Erudite.

Marsden, Jamie. Abnegation.

“Thatcher, Anna.” 

It was time. 

Her time.

#divergent #eric coulter #oc #fanfic #short stories

[castiel-kline]

14x07 Rewatch Notes

This one was legitimately on a whim. Oops?

Deadass forgot about Nick and screamed ew the moment I saw him lmao. I think I’m gonna fast forward his scenes

Ughhhhh Cas is trying to heal him... and he’s sooo close to holding Jack’s hand rn... I’m gonna cry

I feel bad for laughing bc this is a dire situation but these men lie professionally and Dean can’t settle on a fake birth year for Jack? Peak comedy

God it’s like a medical drama. Cas’ facial expressions are actually killing me tho

Does Cas normally get really quiet and introspective when faced with stuff like this? Might have to analyze old eps for that. Bc he’s really just silently watching. I do appreciate Sam getting his attention when the doctor started coming over tho

Not me desperately trying not to feel bitter at the fact that there’s not a shot of Cas’ reaction  to the words “total systemic failure” 

CAS IS FUCKING SITTING AT JACK’S HOSPITAL BEDSIDE WHY DONT I REMEMBER THIS AHHHH

Jack in the trench coat causes me emotional distress

Skskskskj I forgot Sam lied to get Rowena there... and he just casually goes “oh yeah Lucifer’s son...” and Rowena’s like gOodBye

Thank you for acknowledging Kelly, Sam!!!!

AHHHH Jack no the world would not be better off without you STAHP

Jack immediately defrosting Rowena with his cinnamon roll sweetness is fantastic 

Ahhh Sam calling Jack “buddy” got me right in the feels for some reason

“Well if it’s grace he needs he can have mine.” BRB SOBBING

Wtf is going on with Dean’s blurry vision? Is that a Michael thing? Tbh I watch season 14 for the character interactions so I have no earthly clue

I forgot leaving was Jack’s idea... “I’m done being special”? Baby you’re KILLING ME

Of course Sergei was a sketchy BMOL contact. That makes perfect sense

I mean maybe they should have actually made sure Sam and Cas were okay with this but. Jack really wasn’t going to take no for an answer, so

Me 🤝 Jack -> Drifting all over the lane upon learning to drive

But actually Jack learning to drive makes me feel so many emotions 

Dean if the dying child wants to mimic you YOU LET HIM MIMIC YOU AND STOP BEING AN ASS FOR TWO SECONDS JESUS CHRIST

Every damn time Jack’s excitement to drive gets me crying

“Cas, are you sure you want to do this alone?” SAM THANK YOU SIR ILY

Y’all think Sam and Cas cope by worrying about other people? BC I DO

Dean, I actually feel a lot of positive feelings towards you during this episode but what the actual FUCK is going through your mind suggesting taking the terminally ill two year old to a fucking BAR to find a hookup? At this point take him to a 3D Disney movie or something. ANYTHING but that

You don’t make him sentimental Dean he’s just Like That. He’s just a sweetie. And he’s got a healthier attitude about mortality than I do GOD I love him but I just want to wrap him in bubble wrap and park him in front of a Pixar marathon some days you know 

And the saga of Castiel’s ugly cars continues!! Though I do love that color blue it’s just so GAUDY

Whoops forgot about the holy fire circle. Cas is unbothered by it tho lmao he’s just done with the world’s crap at this point

Castiel does not stand for any dehumanization of Jack Kline. Fuck yeah. 

Wow the controlled hope in Cas’ eyes hurts me a lot 

AHHHHH that’s actually one of the biggest smiles we ever see from Cas isn’t it 

Anybody got a fic where Cas actually follows through on his threat to Sergei and goes and like. Rips him limb from limb or something? I’m surprised he didn’t do that in canon ngl but I guess it is a little bit too hbo spn

Cas stop being critical of yourself you do make jack happy. Why are they like this I’m SCREAMING

Literally is it difficult to give Cas reaction shots after he receives news of his son’s imminent death. Bc that’s twice now that it’s been conspicuously absent and I do NOT appreciate it 

Anyway 5/10. I did not watch the Nick B plot again but that drags this ep way down. Also it’s generally depressing and kept sidelining Cas. And Sam, tbh, but to a much lesser degree this go round. Jack’s awesome though!!! As always!!!

#kitkat rambles #kitkat's random spn rewatch #spn 14x07 #spn

[thecreelhouse]

Wild Thing

Paring: Steve Harrington x Original Female Character

Prompt: People should do more “meet ugly” and less “meet cute”. For example.

“I broke your nose at a mosh pit” AU

Word count: 3,547

Content warnings: drinking? A tiny mention of blood? Cursing, lots of that.

Author’s note: okay so awhile back I reblogged a huuuuge AU masterlist filled with tinier lists of AUs, and this one was my fave, especially since I’ve been through plenty of pit injuries at shows lol. It’s ridiculous, it’s cheesy, but this was really fun to write!! I’m trying to keep myself active with one shots till an idea for another series comes along, bc I really miss kill the lights already lol. Title is from X’s cover of “Wild Thing”. Anywaaaaay, hope y’all enjoy this one! <3 

Chicago’s skyline was always an incredible sight, but seeing it lit up and shimmer among the night sky really brought out the character the city held.

It was a cold, winter night, and somehow Robin convinced Steve to take the trip out west towards the Windy City. It was a weekend, and by some great miracle, they both had off that night and the next day, and Robin was not letting it go to waste. She decided it’d be a night best spent dragging her best friend along to some punk show in the city, some band that Steve had never heard the name of. It’s not like he had plans any better waiting for him back home in Hawkins, so he figured there was no harm in tagging along.

As they got closer to their destination, though, he was second guessing the choice, feeling out of his comfort zone. Steve was once the kind of guy who could at least fake the confidence he didn’t truly hold when he walked into an unfamiliar place, but his present self wasn’t even sure where to dig up the facade anymore.

“You sure you wanna go?” Steve asked, absentmindedly.

“Am I sure I want to go? Where? This show?” Robin asked back, dumbfounded. “I mean, considering we drove a few hours and we’re almost there, yeah, Dingus, I do.”

Steve sighed, feeling dumb for even asking, and feeling even worse for being this uncomfortable over a new situation. It’s not like this sort of event was really his scene. He enjoyed music, but more of whatever came up on the radio, what was a hit at the time, and didn’t pay much more mind to any music beyond that.

“You’d just be sitting at home, doing what? Nothing? End up babysitting?”

“Is it still called babysitting when they’re well into their teenage years?” Steve deflected, and Robin rolled her eyes as she drove on down the highway.

“Live a little, Harrington.” She groaned, exiting off a ramp that led into the city’s grid.

“I’ve done plenty of that, Buckley.” He scoffed back. “Or did you forget the entire mess that happened at Starcourt?”

“I mean you could use a little fun, a little adventure that doesn’t involve evil Russians and other-dimensional monsters.” Robin pointed out, and Steve knew she was right. Nowadays it was just easier to stay close to home, keep things low key, and try as hard as possible to stay as far as possible from trouble.

Getting lost in his thoughts, time didn’t wait up for Steve. Before he realized it, they were in the tiny venue- a sweaty, grimy, smokey basement in the city, under who knows what building. He wasn’t sure how Robin could even enjoy herself in a place like this.

A few shots of cheap vodka burned their way down their throats before Steve finally felt a little bit more comfortable in his own skin. It wasn’t long before Robin ditched him, letting loose in the packed crowd and letting the music dance her away. Steve asked her several times that night who they were even seeing, and still couldn’t remember for the life of him.

Slowly but surely, Steve began nodding his head along to the music, loud and sharp, falling in rhythm to the beats in the air. The nervousness was falling away, and he felt himself having fun for the first time in ages. He had no clue where Robin was, and had no idea what this song was, but he didn’t care anymore.

The band onstage jumped right into a heavier song next, and the crowd began to open up into a wide circle in the middle, confusing Steve. He wasn’t sober enough to grasp onto what was happening before people started moving wildly in the middle of the circle.

A few seconds in, Steve watched Robin go around the circle pit before ending back up by him, laughing as she tried to catch her balance and breath. Even if he was completely lost here, seeing his best friend have the time of her life was enough to put a smile on his face too.

“Having fun yet?” She yelled into his ear over the music, and Steve nodded, bashfully smiling.

“Definitely don’t belong here, but you were right, Buckley. Beats staying at home.” He yelled back, and her grin grew, happy to see her best friend genuinely enjoy himself for once.

Steve spoke directly in her ear again, quieter this time, as the band tuned up for their next song. “So what’s up with everyone running around in a circle? Is this like, the punk version of duck-duck-goose?”

Robin snorted at his words. “Nah, Dingus, that would be a circle pit. This is how people dance at these shows!”

“By playing tag?”

“Or sometimes throwing elbows.” Robin smirked at him, and before he could even question what she meant, the music started up again with the pit opening wider. Sure enough, young punks were throwing their bodies wildly about the center of the room, throwing Steve even deeper into confusion.

Not sure where to look, his eyes bounced rapidly around the people throwing themselves into one another, wondering why the hell anyone would think this was fun, and doesn’t it hurt? Breaking his stream of thought, a girl threw herself into the predominantly male mess of the pit, no fear to be seen. She instantly caught and hooked Steve’s attention.

Sure, this young woman was cute- unconventionally, with her purple mohawk, plaid skirt and ripped fishnets, black Docs, and a denim vest adorned with hand sewn patches and sparkling studs all over- but it was her smile that really hooked Steve in. She threw herself against the crowd, hitting into men twice her size, stumbling a bit, but that didn’t stop the laughter that kept tumbling from her lips. The light from the stage caught her face for a second, and Steve caught a glimpse of her face, sporting heavy eye makeup, and a shiny piercing hanging from the middle of her bottom lip, and his stomach did somersaults at the thought of what it’s like to kiss someone with a piercing like that.

As soon as the thought came, Steve quickly shook it from his mind, trying to focus back in on the music, and go back to enjoying himself. He noticed he lost sight of the girl, and wondered where she slipped to in the jam packed, yet small crowd.

Music blaring on, Steve began to lose himself in the sounds again, enjoying the moment again, when a loud CRACK! echoed out, followed by blinding pain through his head.

It took Steve a moment to realize he was hit, square on in the nose.

“Holy fuck!” He cried out in pain, and Robin grabbed onto his arm, holding her friend from falling over on the ground.

“You got hit good, Harrington. I think you’re bleeding.” Robin casually mentioned, sending Steve into further panic. It didn’t help that the show carried on, with fans still wildly thrashing about in the crowd. Robin pulled him off to the side, towards the dirty, dingy bar.

“Fuck, dude, I am so sorry!” A voice yelled out to him. “Shit, I got you good!”

Steve tilted his head up, disoriented, but still ready to curse out whoever the dick was that cracked his nose. “Maybe if you weren’t such a fucking-“

Eyes fully opened, pushing past the pain, he stopped dead mid sentence, realizing who was in front of him. The girl he was admiring earlier.

“Lay it on me, I’m a big girl, I can handle it.” She smirked, watching his tough exterior attitude fade away. Steve’s jaw hung open, in awe this girl most likely broke his nose, and stunned by how gorgeous she was.

“I- fuck, I’m sorry.”

Robin stifled a laugh, watching Steve stumble over his words a few feet off.

The girl bit her lip, piercing catching between her teeth ever so slightly, and it made Steve’s stomach flip again. “For what? Getting in my way?” She joked, laughing. “It’s totally my fault, man. I’m sorry. I just really lose myself to X’s music, a little too easily.”

Steve felt a smile tug on his lips, admiring the young woman’s confidence in just being herself. He was also grateful she mentioned who was playing, considering he still couldn’t remember up until that point.

“It- It’s cool, they’re really good!”

“It’s your first time seeing them, huh?” The girl laughed, and Robin stepped in, laughing too.

“I dragged him along. Baby’s first real punk show.” Robin teased her best friend, pinching his face, ignoring his eyes rolling.

“No shame, we all have our firsts! Once, I busted my lip open in the pit on someone’s airborne boot, had to get this baby repierced after it healed.” The girl said, almost with a bragging tone, but not enough to be annoying. Almost like she wore it as a badge of honor; a badass story to tell.

“I tried telling Robin this isn’t really my thing.” Steve admitted, sheepishly. The girl shrugged.

“What matters is if you’re having a good time. From before knocking you out, you definitely looked like you were starting to enjoy yourself!” She said, smiling brightly. “Glad I could be a part of your first experience.”

Steve felt his face flush at her words; she noticed him before this all happened? God, he really hoped he hadn’t looked like a tool beforehand.

“Well, I’m honored such an expert like yourself decked me in the face.” He laughed, still cradling his nose, trying to stop the bleeding with bar napkins. With his free hand, he outstretched it to the girl, “I’m Steve, by the way. And this is my best friend, Robin.”

Robin waved at the girl, more interested in how Steve was turning this situation around for himself. The girl smiled at Robin, then back at Steve, even wider, before shaking his hand dramatically.

“Name’s Rosie. It’s nice to meet you!” Rosie winked, still giggling. Steve felt the biggest headache of his life begin to spread, but still couldn’t help grinning back at Rosie. Even with a cracked, bleeding, probably now swollen nose, he felt the happiest and carefree he had felt in months.

“You guys hungry? I could really go for some pizza or somethin’.” Rosie asked, and Robin looked over at Steve to gauge how he felt, to which he shrugged and smiled.

“You have a place in mind?” Steve asked, and Rosie nodded proudly.

“Not to brag, but us Chicago folks got the best pizza around.” Rosie faked a hair flip, brushing the shaved side of her head. Steve laughed at the motion.

Steve and Robin followed Rosie out of the venue, and down the block to a little hole-in-the-wall pizzeria. They sat and ordered, getting to know each other over the extra cheesy deep dish pizza.

“So you’re from Hawkins?” Rosie asked before taking a sip of her cheap beer.

“Mhm, sadly.” Robin said, rolling her eyes.

“All that weird shit, right?” Rosie asked. “It went down before I moved out here, it was the final straw for me.”

Steve choked on a string of cheese at her words. “You lived in Hawkins? How the hell have we never met you?”

Rosie bit her lip, smirking while looking away. Steve knew if she kept doing that, it’d be the death of him.

“You were kind of a real jerk to me in school.” Rosie winced as she admitted. “I actually switched schools because of all the bullying. Not just you, of course. Just... everyone, everyone was so wrapped up in stupid bullshit titles.”

Steve’s heart dropped into his stomach, his face falling into a frown along with it. “Fuck... I had no clue, Rosie. I’m so sorry.”

“No biggie.” She shrugged. “Like I said, not really all you. Everyone was a dick. It was good to move a town over. People were still awful, but definitely not as bad as some of the assholes that were in Hawkins High.”

Steve’s frown only fell deeper. Robin gave him a sad look, feeling for her friend, knowing he had changed so much in the short time they’ve known each other, and that he was nothing like the person that Rosie once knew.

“Why didn’t you say something earlier?” Steve asked, voice quieter now.

“Took me a minute to recognize you two. Made me feel a little better about the punch to the face.” She quietly giggled.

“I deserved that, for sure.”

“Maybe just a little, Harrington.” Rosie teased, sticking her tongue out at him, and his smile began to return. “We’re even now.”

“I had it coming, surprised you didn’t throw that at me in school.” He laughed, not sure if he was joking, but glad it made Rosie laugh in return. For someone who seemed as tough as nails to Steve, her laugh was the softest thing he had ever heard.

“Are you guys driving back tonight? It’s really late, so if you need to crash at my place you’re more than welcome to.” Rosie mentioned, and Robin nodded right away, more exhausted than she expected to be.

“Yes please! Do you know how boring long car rides get with this dingus? He loves snoring when he’s in the passenger seat.” Robin exclaimed, and Rosie laughed, smiling over at Steve. Steve let them poke fun, too tired to quip back. He was perfectly fine with the idea, too, wanting just to lay down and hopefully sleep off this headache.

The three of them headed to Rosie’s house, just a few blocks over. It was a decent sized, old townhouse, shared among several roommates, all who were out for the night. The house wasn’t the neatest, but it had character. Makeshift bookshelves from milk crates held all sorts of things besides books; plants, records, a pair of roller skates, a sewing kit, all scattered among the surfaces.

“Make yourselves at home! There’s plenty of surfaces to crash on.” Rosie offered. “It’s ain’t much, but it’s home.”

Steve took notice of the wide variety of art pieces hung among the walls, all messy with unique styles, clearly from more underground artists. Some cross stitch pieces hung among them, with vulgar phrases such as “Make yourself at home- and go fuck yourself!” Or, “please don’t do coke in the bathroom.”, making Steve smile at how different it was to his parents’ home. It was a breath of fresh air to how neat and tidy their house was.

“We got couches, bean bags, and some futons upstairs in the guest room.” Rosie pointed out, walking further into the living room and kicking her shoes off and across the floor. She dropped her jacket onto a hook on the wall, revealing she just had a tank top underneath. Steve wondered how she wasn’t cold the whole night, before his attention fell elsewhere, onto her tattoos. She wasn’t heavily tattooed, but enough where they were noticeable. They suited her; everything about Rosie’s look reflected her outgoing, unapologetic attitude, and Steve admired that about her.

“I’m outtie like a belly button, y’all,” Robin mumbled, and with that, fell back onto the squishy, well lived in couch, immediately falling asleep. Steve shook his head at his best friend.

“She talks shit on me falling asleep in the car, but this girl can fall asleep anywhere.” He laughed, and Rosie joined in with her soft giggles.

“C’mon, there’s more places upstairs.” She said, and began heading up the creaky, wooden stairs. Steve trailed behind her, feeling exhaustion hit him further.

Rosie opened a door, flipping a switch on. Band and movie posters covered the walls, and a plain futon laid in the room, blankets piled all across it. “Make yourself cozy, alright? If you need anything, don’t be afraid to give me a holler.”

Steve nodded, bummed to be ending the night with Rosie so soon. He felt like it all went by so quickly, even with the pounding headache.

“Yeah, thanks again, Rosie. We owe you.” He said, smiling at her. She returned a grin, before turning down the hall and heading into her room, closing the door gently behind her.

Steve couldn’t sleep, and at first, he was sure it was due to the headache. An hour passed, and he realized it wasn’t that. Well. Okay. It was, but it was more importantly his guilt still keeping him awake. Rosie said it was fine, it was in the past, but it didn’t mean he didn’t have a hard time forgiving himself. Steve couldn’t even remember if he ever said or had done anything specifically to her, and it made him feel even worse.

Tossing and turning, he couldn’t find sleep, no matter how far he reached for it. Frustrated, he rolled out of the blankets, and padded down the hall to Rosie’s room. The door was covered in more band posters, sketches, and caution tape. He hesitated for a moment before mustering up the courage to knock. Before his fist could tap the wood, the door swung open.

“You can’t sleep either, huh?” Rosie said as she appeared in the doorway, startling Steve slightly. Rosie was in drowning in an oversized band hoodie of some sort, and not much else, causing Steve to choke on air a bit. He blushed, looking away while trying to compose himself.

“Ye- yeah.” He stuttered, before taking a deep breath. “Look, Rosie, I’m sorry- I was a real fucking jerk back then, and I’m sorry I ever hurt you. I feel like a dick, I can’t even remember what I’ve said or done-“

“Steve, it’s fine. It’s all good.” Rosie said softly, resting her hand on his arm, and it stopped his rambling. “We’re even now, remember?”

“I deserve more than this,” He pointed to his swollen nose. “Trust me.”

“You’re making up for lost time now, though. Never woulda’ thought you would be friends with Robin Buckley back then, but you guys are two peas in a pod now!” Rosie said, smiling, trying to lighten things.

“I’m grateful she even gave me a real chance at friendship. I’m grateful you don’t hate my guts, either.” Steve mumbled, still too nervous to look Rosie in the eyes.

“Can I be real, Harrington?” She asked before continuing, and only doing so when his eyes finally met hers. “I was a real sucker for ya’ back then, even when you were a dick.”

Steve’s jaw dropped. “No way, you’re kidding.”

Rosie bit her lip, biting down just where her lip ring caught, and fuck there it goes again, driving Steve mad. “Yes way, you were a jerk but still cute, even if you weren’t my type.”

Steve felt his confidence come back, just a smidge. “Am I your type now?”

Rosie hummed, tapping her finger on her chin, pretending to contemplate. “I dunno, man. Maybe. Doesn’t it scare you that a girl is tougher in a pit than you?”

Steve’s eyes grew wide as he shook his head, exhaustion taking over his filter. “No, no way, that was really fucking hot. Fuck, sorry. Not, like, you know-“

“Shut up, Steve.” Rosie interjected before pushing her lips onto his, and oh god, his thoughts wondering how it felt to kiss someone with a lip ring was everything he imagined and more. His stomach did flips, one right after another. Rosie’s lips were soft, and the cool metal of her lip ring sent small shivers up his spine. He leaned in closer, gently pushing her back into his room, throwing his arms around her as he closed the door with his foot, without breaking the kiss.

Hands roamed bodies, soft moans floated through the air, and clothing was thrown around the floor like confetti. Rosie pulled Steve to her bed, flipping over to be on top, throwing Steve off a bit. He wasn’t used to girls taking this much control with him, but he kind of liked it.

Time had passed faster than Steve had wanted, and before he knew it, they were laying next to each other in Rosie’s bed, each trying to catch their breath.

Rosie snuggled closer to Steve, feeling content and humming softly. Steve pulled her closer, kissing her forehead.

“Never thought in a million years you’d give me the time of day.” Rosie whispered.

“Never thought you’d have even been nice to me after being a dick to you back then.” Steve replied, now gently running his hands across the shaved sides of her head, enjoying the feeling. “Is it alright to say I don’t want this to just be a one night thing?”

Rosie rolled over, straddling Steve and smirking down at him. Her hands gently traveled up to his face, just barely touching where the skin was now bruising.

“Only if you let me teach you how to run the pits.” Rosie cracked, and began to giggle, causing Steve to laugh and roll his eyes before he pulled her face down to his, kissing her again.

Never in a million years would he imagine another face injury would lead to something good for once, and he wouldn’t change it for a damn thing.

#steve harrington x oc #steve harrington x ofc #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things x oc #stranger things x ofc #stranger things x you #stranger things x reader #stranger things au #steve harrington au #meet ugly au #my fics #wild thing