#and I AM angry because it seems like people don’t realise the way this website has been treating Palestinians who aren’t in Gaza right now | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

chris-evans-indian-fanfic · 4 years

Text

Longing

Chapter 1

Description: Chris Evans becomes obsessed with you when he realises he can't have you. Eager to be with you in some form or the other, he starts writing fanfiction, where both of you are passionately in love with each other. But what happens when his imagination starts to merge with his reality in his subconsciousness?

Warnings: This entire mini-series will contain smut, bad language and angst. ONLY PROCEED IF YOU ARE 18+

This first chapter is inspired by the GIF below from @navybrat817 and @stargazingfangirl18 's ShamelessHoesForChris writing challenge. Click here to know more

A/N: I do not know Chris Evans personally. This fic is a work of imagination and should only be used as such. It doesn't comment on Chris or anybody else personally. It is also not meant to destroy his reputation or paint him in a bad light. I admire the guy and he really seems like a genuinely nice person. Again, I repeat, THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION SO TREAT IT AS SUCH!

A/N 2: I did search quite a lot on the internet and didn't come across a fic like this. Which makes me nervous and also kind of excited that I get to do something unique? Please please give me your criticism and feedback on this! Would love to hear your thoughts.

A/N 3: I have used a few big words throughout the series because this fic is from Chris' POV and we all know that he's a bit of a wordsmith 😅 I had never even heard these words before in my life. So please let me know if I have used them in an incorrect manner.

My Main Masterlist

I don’t consent to have any of my work published or featured on any third party app, website or translated. If you are seeing this fanfiction anywhere but Tumblr and AO3, it has been reposted without my permission. In that case, please do share the link and let me know.

…

The best thing about shooting Defending Jacob? Chris got to stay in his house in Boston. The worst part about working on the set? He was currently stuck in a room engulfed in hot, angry flames of fire. The fire had abruptly started due to a short circuit and spread across the set in the blink of an eye. Coughing, Chris doubled down on the floor, his breathing becoming more laboured with each second.

The smoke stung his eyes as he looked around for a fire extinguisher. He tried calling for help, but only small grunts managed to escape his lips. Just as he was on the verge of losing consciousness, he heard a voice. Your voice.

"Is anyone here?" you called out, your voice faint in his ears. "Hello?"

Chris tried to shout again, but only sank further towards the floor.

Luckily, you opened the door of his room and found his almost crumpled body on the ground. Using the fire extinguisher, you managed to douse as many flames as you could, while also covering Chris with a thick blanket. As the room was still filled with smoke, you pressed a wet towel on his face, asking him to breathe through his nose.

Slowly, you managed to drag him out of the room and into the corridor, the fire reduced to embers in most places thanks to your fire extinguisher. Chris being a heavy man, you tried your best to support his weight as much as you could, your body almost stooping to form a right angle.

Just as you thought you might be in the clear, you heard a crack from above. Looking up, you realised that the ceiling was about to cave in and so, on impulse, you pushed Chris out of the way, as portions of the false ceiling fell on you, knocking you unconscious.

Chris, in his state, vaguely realised what happened, before he lost his balance and fell to the ground a few feet away from you, his left arm stretched towards your limp body, as if reaching out.

Sirens of the firetruck and the ambulance filled the heavy air. A deep groan escaped his lips as he attempted to crawl towards you, a failed effort. Where did it all go so wrong? he thought. I was supposed to be the one to save you angel! You should be falling in love with me!! And break-up with your good for nothing fiancé!

Overwhelmed with emotions, Chris started drifting off to sleep, your name leaving his lips in the form of a desperate whisper.

🔥

8 MONTHS AGO

Chris met you for the first time at the table read for Defending Jacob. You didn't strike him as anyone special. Being the Junior Assistant Scriptwriter for the series, you were just in the room as a formality. It was your job to jot down the minutes of the meeting, and have the parts of the script marked which were supposed to be changed slightly.

You managed to stay invisible for more such meetings. An introvert by nature, you kept to yourself even when the shooting started.

It was in the Week 4 of the shooting when Chris actually started to notice you. He realised you were always absent from his house parties, never stayed around on the set for after-work shenanigans and, you never hung out with any of your crew-mates for a drink.

What really drove his attention towards you were your random acts of kindness. He once saw you feeding a homeless man in the alley behind the set. Unknown to you, it was where Chris often hid from his cast and crew to smoke.

Then there was the bit with setting up of a mobile blood donation camp on the set, which was completely your idea. He had also seen you distribute fliers for animal adoption centres and NGOs who fought for climate preservation.

You always made sure everyone on the set ate before you did, and the ones who couldn't due to work, you were sure to help them and share their load so they could have lunch.

But one particular incident made him see that you were no ordinary woman.

It was a particularly tough day on the set. They were shooting the 35-second sex scene between him and Michelle. While these scenes looked easy on the screen, they always made Chris feel uneasy about himself. "What if my body is not upto the mark?" , "I don't want to hurt Michelle in any way" , "God I hope I don't touch her inappropriately by mistake" and more such troubling thoughts clawed at his mind. After the scene finally ended, he felt the lustful eyes of the crew feasting on him, admiring his body on display.

He hurried towards his van, avoiding to look at anyone, until his eyes met yours for a total of 5 seconds. He expected to see the same smirk to be reflected in your eyes as everyone else's. Instead, he saw a completely different emotion. He saw sadness, sympathy, and most importantly, recognition of his discomfort etched on your face.

After that, Chris started to keep a close eye on you. You always wore comfortable clothes, with loads of pockets. Yet somehow, they always fit you well. He also noticed that you always got your own lunch, refusing to eat the food available on the set.

A few days after filming the sex scene, he decided to try to speak with you. Palms sweaty, he headed towards you and gently said your name.

"Hi," he said, and stopped.

"Hello Mr Evans," you greeted him back, a little surprised that he knew your name.

He continued to look at you, bright cerulean eyes bearing into yours, apparently lost. You blinked twice, unfazed, and a little uncomfortable, "Can I help you sir?"

Chris shook his head slightly. He was so used to women fawning all over him, that your utter lack of excitement on seeing him deterred him a bit.

He cleared his throat, a little flustered, *Ahem yeah… I wanted to ask… something… karaoke!" he managed to mumble, "It's karaoke night at my house. Tomorrow. Will you come? At night?"

"Umm… No Mr Evans. I am sorry I will not be able to make it," you politely declined while taking a small step back.

"Oh. Uhh… well we can have it any other night if you want," he cleared his throat again, sweat starting to gather on his forehead as he noticed your movement, "You never visit any of my house-parties."

You smiled a bit, "I like to go home early. I want to spend as much time as I can with my fiancé and my cat."

Chris raised his eyebrows at that revelation, "Fiancé? I… I don't see a ring."

"That's because there isn't one," your smile widened as you pulled the chain around your neck and revealed a locket. It was an intricately carved sunflower locket, with small, delicate curls nestled inside the petals.

Chris glanced at it with disdain. It looked hand-made, cheap, "Is that… is it made from clay?"

"Yes Mr Evans," you beamed at the locket, admiring it with love and pride, "My fiancé is a potter and he made this himself. It took him over 6 hours just to carve all the petals. But he still made it because he knows how much I love sunflowers."

"So he's too poor to give you an appropriate ring?" Chris snapped at you.

Offended, you looked at him in shock and anger as he continued. "You deserve someone who can afford to give you an expensive engagement ring. Not some cheap craft project."

You grit your teeth at his comment, "Unlike some people, I don't look at the price of the gifts, I look at their value. While this," you held the locket in front of his eyes, "is worthless for you, it is priceless for me."

You placed the locket back inside your shirt and walked away. Chris stood rooted at the spot, biting his cheek hollow. He hadn't meant to drive you away. He had just wanted you to see him as a prospective partner.

As he turned towards his trailer, an idea popped into his head.

🔥

Next Friday saw you and your fiancé walk into the bowling alley. The production house had organised a "Bring Your Partner to Work Day" and you both were excited to step out of your routine lives.

A few people on the set recognised your fiancé Aiden from his YouTube channel. Kenneth, an Assistant Set Designer, drooled over him, "Maaahhnnn! I love your pottery videos! They are so calming dude. How do you make them so relaxing?"

The ever shy and soft-spoken Aiden gushed at the compliment, turning a shade of red which you always found adorable. Aiden was almost the same height as you, with a lean figure and a kind, freckled face. Your friends always told you that Aiden's looks were nothing to brag about, but you disagreed. Because for you, this man was the most handsomest, cutest and sexiest person in the world.

And you knew he felt the same way about you. That's why, even after being together for almost 5 years now, you two still looked at each other with heart eyes.

As the party progressed, you made sure to avoid Chris, and so far, you were successful. That was until he softly said your name.

With dread in your stomach, you and Aiden turned around to face the man. Aiden knew of your previous encounter with Chris, and tried to square his shoulders as much as possible, but Chris' towering physique and personality literally made it impossible for Aiden to appear tough.

You gave Chris a curt nod and received a sweet smile in response.

"I believe I owe you an apology," he confessed, "I am sorry. My behavior that day was inexcusable." He paused for reaction, but looking at your hesitant faces, he continued, "It was quite a hectic day on the set and I guess I took it all out on you," he looked towards you, "You know I am capricious by nature. It takes me some time to become gregarious. But," he raised his hands in the air, "I repeat, the way I acted was inexcusable. I am sorry."

He extended his arm towards Aiden, "You are a porter I believe."

"Potter, sir," Aiden corrected while shaking his hand and introducing himself.

You bit your tongue, knowing that Chris was mocking you with his false apology.

He invited Megan to join the conversation, "Megan loves handmade ceramics. Maybe she would be interested in your work."

Introductions were made again, and as the conversation pursued, it arrived at the topic of your marriage.

"Have you guys decided on a date yet?" asked Megan as Chris looked at you.

"We are planning to get married as soon as the shooting ends for DJ," you smiled.

"Oh really? Wow that's… unusual," Megan tried her best to hide her surprise.

"We don't know exactly when will the shooting end," Chris said with a frown on his face.

"That's not an issue Mr Evans. We are actually planning to get married at the courthouse," revealed Aiden.

"You know if money is an issue then we would be more than happy to help you guys out," Chris offered in a sincere tone.

"Oh no no Mr Evans. Money isn't an issue," you clarified, "We have decided to donate the money we had intended to spend on the wedding."

"But thank you so much for the generous offer, we really appreciate it," Aiden added with a sincere smile.

"You know a lot of couples are doing that nowadays. It's a trend I believe," Megan commented, "Where are you going to make the donation?"

"The local orphanage where I grew up. We both love kids and, it just seemed to be the perfect choice," Aiden beamed at you.

You mirrored his expression while Chris scowled. "I think everybody should get the wedding of their dreams, and you" he stated, pointing towards you, "deserve much more than a courthouse wedding. Don't you want to get married in a beautiful church? Walk down the aisle in a gorgeous white gown? And get married to a man who can actually fulfill your wishes and desires?"

Squaring your shoulders, you looked at Chris dead in the eye, "I am marrying the man of my dreams Mr Evans. The wedding ceremony doesn't matter to me. What does matter is the beautiful life we will begin together. Now if you will excuse us," you linked your arm with Aiden's, "we need to leave."

Chris watched you leave as Megan tried to distract him with something else. Tonight did not go the way he had anticipated.

He left the party shortly after you, directly heading for his home. Standing under the cold shower, he tried to reason with himself. He was acting out of character. There was no reason for his behavior. You had made it ample clear that you loved your fiancé and that nobody in the world could sway you.

Then why was he so hell-bent on claiming you as his?

Because she's perfect for you, a voice answered him.

Yeah, but she belongs to someone else, he argued.

So what?, the voice urged, Fight for her. You saw her wimp of a fiancé. You can break him into two pieces without breaking a sweat. She is made for you. Just you, and nobody else.

"I… Just… No," Chris stammered loudly as he shook his head, trying to get rid of the voice in his mind.

He tried to meditate, but it didn't work. Dodger too, was unable to distract him. Even his books on self-help and mental health were of no use.

As a last resort, he opened his laptop, but his fingers halted at the search bar, the cursor blinking back at him.

He was too tempted to search for you again. The last time he had Googled you, he had been satisfied with the results. You often volunteered with a few NGOs, coordinated multiple donation drives, visited orphanages and taught underprivileged children. His heart had melted at a particular photograph- you were holding an 8-month-old girl in your arms, while looking over a painting drawn by a 4-year-old boy as the child looked up at you with a toothy smile.

It reminded him of everything he wanted to have, but still couldn't.

He closed his eyes and started kneading his forehead with his palms. Everybody he knew always only had the best things about him. Right from Scarlett to Mark to Olivia to every fucking person he had ever worked with, everybody said he deserved to have a loving wife, a stable family.

And yet, here he was, on a Friday night, home alone with a beer bottle, on the verge of anxiety.

Was it just anxiety though?

Who the fuck is Aiden and why does he deserve to be with her? the voice in his head was back.

They love each other, they want to get married, Chris reasoned.

He doesn't hold a candle next to you, the voice persisted, People love money more than they love others. She will come to you. But you need to let her know you are available. You need to take her to-

"No," Chris interrupted the voice loudly, "No. This is unhealthy. No."

Reaching for his phone, he searched for his therapist's number, when the voice chuckled, You really think a shrink is going to help you with this? Eh? They are only going to ask you to fuck another pussy, or read more books. And I will be damned before you touch another book about trees.

Chris shook his head again, but in vain. Unable to find the number in his contacts, he turned to Google for the second time that night and started searching for therapists in his area. The voice tut-ted, Yeah, as if the psycho doctor is going to shut their trap about Chris Evans crying over a girl.

Chris almost crushed his bottle in frustration. He couldn't let the voice take over. Not now. Not after working his ass off to get where wanted in his career. Taking a deep breath, he looked at the screen again and came across the headline- "Why Do People Write Fanfiction?" The word fanfiction seemed vaguely familiar to him. He was going to ignore the article and scroll downwards, but the brief underneath the headline made him stop- …mostly, people write fanfiction to stay in touch with the characters they love," says leading Psychologist Andrea Williams.

Intrigued, he opened the article and started reading. Then he opened another, and another and by the time he was done, he had read 6-7 articles on the concept of fanfiction and what it entailed.

Sighing, he opened a new word document. He was reluctant to type a letter, let alone a whole fictional story. He had tried everything and yet, you chose to occupy a rent-free space in his mind.

Now all he needed was a reference.

He minimised the document, and opened a new tab on his browser. His hesitant fingers typed the words - Chris Evans Fanfiction - into the search bar, and he instantly winced.

Millions of search results were displayed before him, and as he read the descriptions of each one of them, he realised that 99% of these stories were porn. There was no sugar-coating it. On the 5th page of the search results, he luckily found a story sans the erotica. It was a cute one-shot about him going on a first date with the reader. He read it with squinted eyes, afraid that a sex scene might jump out of the blue, but luckily, nothing of the sort happened.

Chris liked reading it. It was an innocent story filled with romance.

But the only problem? It was written from the reader's point of view. He checked a few others, and realised they were all written from the women's perspective, not his.

He sat back in his chair, turning his head such that he was looking at the ceiling, contemplating his options.

You want her, the voice whispered.

Reluctantly, he typed the first word that came to his mind. Your name.

Chris rested his chin on his palm, wondering where to start. If this were fiction, would tonight have gone different? Would you have visited his house for karaoke that night?

Tapping his fingers on the desk, he bit his tongue in thought. Thinking it was better to start at the beginning, he started typing from his POV-

The first time I saw her I thought she was pretty. I saw her during meetings and the shooting. Then one day I saw her giving food to a homeless man-

Deleting his words, Chris shook his head. This was insane! Right? You were a real human being and it was unethical of him to write this! He needed to learn to handle his feelings.

If you don't have the balls to fight for her, then be with her in the stories you write. Grow a spine Evans, whispered the insulting voice.

Hesitating, he tried to write another paragraph, which ended up getting deleted.

Try again, the voice coaxed him. Pour your heart into this. Write better.

Taking a sip of the beer, Chris started typing again-

It was lunchtime when I saw her arranging some equipment on the table. Her back was facing me as I carefully approached her, afraid to startle her. I breathed in her scent, light, floral and fresh, before whispering her name.

She turned around, a bit surprised to see me, but she smiled nevertheless. Oh gosh her smile. I had seen her smile a few times on the set, but in person, it took my breath away.

"Hi," I managed to greet her shyly. She matched my response.

"I was wondering if you would like to sing karaoke with me? There's a karaoke party tonight at my house if you would like to come," I asked her hopefully.

Her expression turned remorseful as she apologised, "I cannot come Mr Evans. My fiancé won't let me."

Imagine my surprise when I found out about her fiancé. "I didn't know about your fiancé. Why won't he let you come?" I asked her, concerned as she started sniffing a bit.

"He's… he's very strict Mr Evans. He doesn't like it when I go out with my fri-friends or co-workers," she shared between her light sobs.

My heart broke into pieces on hearing her confession. I had often noticed her taciturn behaviour on the set, but I had no idea about the reason behind it.

I raised my hands to cup her face. I was itching to wipe her tears with my lips, but instead, I used my thumbs.

"I want to help you. Please let me," I requested.

"Nobody can help me Mr Evans. I am stuck with a monster." She pulled a chain from underneath her shirt and I got a glimpse at the marks on her neck. "Aiden gave me this chain and locket instead of an engagement ring. He said it will be better than a ring. And now he-" she started sobbing harder. I pulled her into my chest, running my right hand through her hair as my left hand soothed her back.

"And now he uses it as a leash," my angel whispered, horrified, "he says I do not deserve a ring."

I hugged her tighter and thankfully, she buried her face in my chest, "You are no longer stuck with him. Are you listening to me?" I bent my face to bring my lips near her ears, "I will make sure that you are free of him."

She shook her head, reluctantly pulling away from me, "No Mr Evans. I cannot-"

"Yes you can," I interrupted her. "You are going to come to my house for karaoke tonight. Message Aiden right now, and tell him that I will be dropping you home. Okay?"

After some coaxing, she agreed. I held her close as she typed out the message, her hands shaking around her mobile phone. Finally she clicked on the SEND button.

I brushed a kiss on her forehead, "Wait for me in the back alley after the shoot, okay? I will pick you up from there."

She nodded gratefully in response.

I couldn't wait for the shoot to be over that day. In my eagerness, I even messed up a few takes, mumbling over my lines like an idiot. But eventually, I got through the day.

I was excited when I picked her up after the shoot. I could see she was nervous and maybe a little bit scared, but she still entered my car anyway. So I made small talk with her and tried to put her mind at ease.

Finally, when we reached my house, she was in awe.

"This is the most beautiful house I have ever seen Mr Evans," she gasped as I led her inside, "I don't think I have ever seen anything like it before!"

I chuckled, "I am happy you like it. It… it just feels empty sometimes, you know? I find loneliness ubiquitous in this house."

You looked at her puzzled expression and smiled. "Ubi-what was that word Mr Evans?"

"Ubiquitous," I replied, "it means something that is present and is found everywhere."

"Ahh okay," she nodded, "thank you for teaching me."

"I will accept your gratitude only on one condition."

She tilted her head ever so slightly, "And what would that be Mr Evans?"

I smiled as I slightly bent down and held her hand, "You need to start calling me Christopher."

Visibly flustered, my angel looked down at her feet. "I-I can't Mr Evans," she said in a low voice.

"Why can't you?"

"I respect you too much sir," she confessed.

"Hey," I gently nudged her forehead with mine, "I want you to say my name. Please?"

I stared into her eyes as she met mine. God.

There was something about her eyes that was absolutely riveting. The depth of her eyes pulled me in towards her as I read the plethora of emotions hidden within them. Her gaze searched my face for malice, deceit, but only found love and trust in return.

I slowly cupped her face as her breath hitched in her chest. I could feel my own heart race. Bringing my face as close as I could to hers, I whispered, the distance between our lips fast closing, "Please."

She parted her lips ever so slightly. I felt her warm breath on mine as she obliged, "Christopher."

I closed my eyes as I heard the most melodious symphony, my name draped in her sweet voice.

I dipped my head to kiss her, feel the shape of her lips, but she stepped back.

"I-I am st-still engaged Chris-Christopher," she stammered.

I straightened myself, my hands no longer cupping her face, "I understand. I am sorry. Would you like-"

Before I could finish, a car honked outside. While I was curious at the intrusion, her eyes widened with fear.

"That's him," she gasped, "Aiden is here. He found me."

"How is that possible?"

"He has a location app installed on my phone through which he tracks my location," she revealed, visibly shaking at the thought of greeting her fiancé.

"Stay here. You will be safe inside. Let me handle him," I said, squeezing her shoulders.

I walked out of the house and towards the car. The vehicle didn't look in good shape, it's owner even more so.

Aiden manually rolled down his window and spat on the ground. Fumes of cheep alcohol and stale cigarette smoke escaped through the window. "Where is she?" he hollered.

"That's not your concern anymore. She's breaking up with you," I crossed my arms and stood facing him. "If you know what's good for you, you will leave her alone and stay out of her life."

Aiden exited the car at that threat, the door of the vehicle rattled as he opened it. "She said that?" he scoffed, "Color me surprised, I thought the little mouse had no fight left in her. Bring her out here. I want to hear," he wriggled a finger at me, "whatever the fuck you are saying from her own fucking mouth."

"Not going to happen Aiden. You followed her here against her own wishes. Now scoot off before I call the cops," I warned.

"You think I will be scared of some Hollywood prick who shits diamonds?" he sneered.

"No. But you should be scared of the law. You are currently harassing the owner of this private property, not to mention you have clearly abused your girlfriend mentally, emotionally and physically. So be sensible," I took a step towards him, "and fuck off."

"STOP," she shouted as she trusted towards us. She stood in front of me, as if to guard me from her monster of a fiancé, "Please don't hurt him. I will come with you. Just let him be," she pleaded with him as he smirked.

Before he could react, I pulled her behind me, making sure my body was shielding her from Aiden.

"She's a gold-digging bitch. You stay away from her," he pointed at me as he tried to reach her.

I pushed him away once and kept my hand on his weak, thin torso. Turning my head, I asked her for the last time, "Are you sure you want to go with him? I can save you. I will protect you, provide for you and keep you happy!" I urged her.

She looked at me with hope and helplessness. Slowly, she glanced at Aiden who looked like he was ready to commit murder. Sobbing uncontrollably, she removed the chain with the sunflower locket and threw it at his feet.

"Leave me alone," she managed to mumble at him.

Furious, Aiden growled and tried to pounce at her. Fortunately, I intervened on time and punched his sorry excuse of a face into the ground.

She gasped as Aiden fell with a thud. Embarrassed, he slowly got up and dusted himself, muttering under his breath as he sat inside his wreck of a car.

"Don't bother coming back to gather your stuff! I am burning it all tonight you cock-sucking bitch!" and with that outburst, Aiden was finally gone.

She was sobbing and shaking uncontrollably at what had just transpired. I wrapped her in my arms to let her know she was safe. Within moments, I felt her ease into my body.

I closed my eyes and smiled, my nose buried into her hair. My angel was safe. My angel was mine.

Chris blinked his eyes as he re-read his story. He already felt a whole lot lighter, his anxiety at ease, and mind exhausted. Clicking on SAVE, he finished the last of his beer and went to sleep, hoping that this was the end to his problems. Little did he know about the horrors that awaited him, behind the door he had just opened by writing that fictional story.

__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__

Permanent tag: @donutloverxo

Chris Evans and his characters taglist: @onetwo3000

This story: @just-one-ordinary-fangirl @carpediemm-18

(If you guys don't want to be tagged in this, just let me know. No hard feelings 😊)

Taglists are open! Just comment, send an ask or a message!

#ShamelessHoesForChris #chris evans fanfic #chris evans fanfiction #chrisevans #chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x you #dark!chris evans #chris evans rpf

266 notes · View notes

theonesthatiworship · 2 years

Note

hope you are okay. the people getting mad at you aren’t doing themselves any favors. I know it’s “just the internet” but AMAB people need to do better at listening to natal women when we ask for space and considering our perspective. Trans women need to take a good hard look at themselves and why they are so willing to use misogynistic slurs against natal women asserting their right for female-only spaces. If they weren’t so insistent then the conversation would be different for a lot of us. You may not agree with everything I’ve said but you seem smart and nuanced enough to be able to express that respectfully. It was unpleasant seeing how quickly people devolved into calling you slurs and putting words in your mouth/not considering the actual arguments being made.

Namaste, from a random former trans man, anonymous bc I don’t trust this website to not be hateful to me when I am honest about my identity. I was lurking the radfem tag, which is marked as “mature”. I am curious if “trans” is as well. Anyway. Be well!

Hello anon. Thank you so much ♥️♥️♥️

I never expected my post to get so much backlash. Sure I thought some people would disagree, but I never thought that people would get so angry at me for just saying that feminist spaces should be female only! Especially considering that’s there so many other blogs on tumblr that have said way worse.

I don’t think we should say that trans women are the cause of this, most of the people who responded to me are natal women, I think. They’re just so deep into patriarchal ideals that they can’t see what they’re doing. Or maybe they don’t care. I’m not sure. Everything that they’ve done so far has been in extremely bad faith. But trans women are not at fault here, for sure. These people are just activists too fanatic to realise they’re only harming marginalised voices, not uplifting them.

I wonder why people are so vehemently against the idea of female only spaces. Maybe it’s because of the misogyny. They think that anyone who promotes feminist issues must be a vile TERF bitch obviously.

You are right in that AMAB people really want to enter these places, but don’t consider what natal women feel. It’s a complicated issue but I don’t think generalising the other group does anything. It just creates an us vs them mentality.

Thank you for being so kind and respectful! I really appreciate your input as a former trans man who likely has more experience on trans issues than I do. I don’t understand why people delved into shouting TERF and bigot at me, calling names like piece of shit and scum. I wouldn’t be surprised if suicide bait is coming soon. I’m just glad that I have some support :)

Also, yes it’s strange that radfem is in the mature tag. I suspect the same for the trans tag. Actual transphobia continues to prevail and no one will do anything about it because they’re too busy accusing every woman who disagrees with them online of being TERFs, making it harder to actually tell who’s transphobic and making trans people look bad when it’s not even their fault.

#tw b slur #anons #asks #send me asks #send me anons

2 notes · View notes

mermaidcashton · 4 years

Text

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

97 notes · View notes

yuvon-writes-letters · 3 years

Note

Hey guys,

Yu, Rai and both Jakes.

Actually..If I talk about my feelings I'm pretty well. Don't tell Jake I said that, but I couldn't be happier about our situation. I mean, we can talk again. Without me being kidnapped and finding a weird Tumblr profile of him. (Which we think was a set up by one of the entities of my world since he obviously doesn't have one. Jake thinks it was goldies doing, I on the other hand don't believe that. Don't ask me why, but it feels like goldie wouldn't do that. And it didn't help me either but only made problems. I was distracted because I was writing the profile (you read it, right Yu? I don't know about the others) and angry. Like, really angry.)

Putting that aside, Jake called me, like he promised :) And it was the longest phone call I had for some time. Most of the time I talked and he didn't get distracted once, just listened to me and everything that happened. And then he started cursing, which is kind of understandable. He apologised for being into stasis. And for this other version from before the 'time setting back' thing. Because I don't find a name I'll call it TSB from now on.

The only problem I have now is going to work, I guess I'll take me some vacation...But at least I'm not as scared of the raven-ass anymore. I mean, I still am, but in the moment I know his steps. And I am not alone.

Jake, I intentionally write the next part in red, please don't read it. That's for Yu.

I know you think that Jake sees you as a threat. If it still is like you wrote in the letter. Jake knows that, too and he doesn't like it. You know him better than I do, of course, but without saying too much...I think it's quite the opposite. Talk to him about that. Even though it's probably not the best circumstances I think he enjoys being with you :)

The next part, purple (damn, I need more coloured pens), is for you Jake.

You already told me that you don't like that Yu thinks you see her as a threat. I only have to say one thing, if it still is like that, talk to her about it. Earlier than later.

The new thoughts about the blood ritual are really interesting. But please don't put yourself in this danger (or not, but I think it's understandable what I mean?) if it isn't necessary. But I also agree with Rai, I thought the same thing for a while. That you desired having someone, Jake, with you. It sounds plausible.

What more was there...Wait, let me reread the letters.

Oh yeah, Rai! One, till now my crow crew seems to still be in stasis (Jake realised that now, too) and two..Please try to take care of your health, yeah? I'm worried for you.

Lis🐾🔥

Ps. Damn...I'm writing this exactly when I wanted to leave the house (I mean, I sadly cannot hide my face forever).

Two new things...I got a message. I mean, it was a threat (because I am the obviously the bad girl that kidnapped Hannah), but I don't care. Maybe that means the stasis is slowly dissolving!

But number 2...I didn't get the vacation. My boss called me almost immediatly. "Under no circumstances [a word is blacked out] Liska. We have July and Alice, Tim and Jenny all want to take free time, too. You are one of our best workers and we can't afford you leaving now. You have no children so you have to wait. Also Max told me that you don't have any problems in family."

So long story short: He wants me to be there tomorrow. Argh, if he would pay me like he's talking that would awesome. And I'll kill Max when I see him next time. (My cousin that thought it was fun to try and steal my work so we both got the rank of 'one of the best workers'. The only problem: Max' title is official. -.- Overall, I'm so much more annoyed than some time earlier. Maybe I should ask Jake for help

Lis,

Okay, the Crow Crew drama is fading a bit, so I'll answer this now. Sorry if I seem disjointed at all, I'm probably going to be going back and forth from conversations to this letter a lot. I can't afford to have them all think I'm compromised, I need to focus on getting out of here and I don't want to deal with their pressure on top of everything else.

Yeah, I don't think the Tumblr profile was Goldie either. Goldie seems to try to be very much a "hands off" sort of entity, like my own. The Tumblr profile thing seems a little out of character for at least my Jake. At least, publicly answering your submission certainly was, though he may have panicked since you sent it in on anon and answered publicly without really thinking about it. I guess I could see him having a Tumblr profile for purposes of following people on social media and watching what they post, though. And then deciding he likes the media and posting a little bit of impersonal things that can't lead back to him. Probably my Jake will say something about that when I hand this letter over to him, stay tuned.

Yeah, I at least read some of the things you sent that profile, and I showed what I had to my Jake too. I'm not sure if I read all of it, since it was a bunch of printed-out screenshots in an envelope, but I read the ask where you told him you hated him (fair at that point but ouch that's got to have hurt) up to when you said you'd found Hannah. After that you sent me your letter telling me time had turned back and the Tumblr screenshots ended.

I'm glad you and Jake managed to talk things out. I was sort of worried about how he'd react, but it sounds like he took it pretty well, considering. I'm... not exactly sure he should be apologizing for the stasis, though. Or the TSB!Jake. Maybe especially not the TSB!Jake. Jakes seem to be oddly different from timeline to timeline, just based on what I've seen of them. TSB has been one of the most different so far.

Oh. One thing I should mention that you might not have seen from the profile: The MWAF used your phone to mock the TSB account, and mentioned that TSB wasn't the only person who could hack, and the MWAF blocked TSB from finding your location. Might want to warn your Jake about that.

A vacation sounds like a good idea :/ It's really hard to go back to normal life right after tragedies or trauma. It feels like the world keeps moving on and you're still stuck in place, and you just want to scream at them that they need to slow down, can't they see that the world is

Good. I'm glad you don't feel alone. It's easier to deal with this stuff when you're with someone else, even if it's not physically.

(Jake, my Jake I mean, if you're reading over my parts of these letters skip to the ||| now please.) I'm not saying he doesn't also enjoy my company. I can tell he does. That doesn't make me not a threat. Like how early on I suspected Thomas, but still thought he was a nice guy and enjoyed talking to him. (Obviously I don't suspect him any more XD ) Still, if you think I should talk with him about it, I'll try to find a tactful way to bring it up.

Yes, because obviously tact is my greatest strength. Sigh.

Like I said to Rai, the underlying desire thing is definitely possible. That'd either mean I'm more obvious about how I feel for Jake than I think I am (very possible, I'm not great at hiding how I feel in person) or the entity has some level of telepathy/mind reading. The reason is that chessboard. Since Jake likes chess, it's clear at least to me the entity expected him to come here at some point. I THINK, if the underlying desire thing is true, I can manipulate myself into wanting specific things by doing things like writing it over and over and repeating it out loud when doing the ritual, but I'm not sure.

|||

It's probably good that your Crow Crew is in stasis, like how it's objectively probably good my outside life is going on without me. Less drama, less pressure.

Huh. The harassment is definitely a promising sign. Maybe you should try contacting Darkness again, same way as I suggested near the beginning? That feels so long ago, but it really can't have been much more than a week, can it?

You... didn't get the vacation. Fucking hell. Is there ANY way you can convince your boss? You really should have time off. Maybe your Jake can help you come up with ideas.

Or at least maybe he can come up with a way to have your boss give you a bonus for your trouble -_-

Oh shit Cleo's interrogating me I'm gonna hand this to Jake now

(The handwriting changes to Jake's.) Hello, Lis.

I agree with Yuvon: "TSB" acts markedly different from myself. There would be no benefit from me promising to be there to find you in the moment, and indeed I would have been falling for a very transparent trap. Even in my possible state of panic, I cannot see myself being there physically, much less revealing myself physically to authorities in the process, unless I was playing the role of bait in a counter-trap. While it is plausible that this was TSB's plan, TSB gave no indication that Yuvon or I could tell that this was the case. Of course, I would have done my best to be there physically in the aftermath of the kidnapping, but not in the moment.

I also agree that the Tumblr profile seems to be out of character for both myself and for "Goldie", though I hesitate to judge TSB's actions by what I myself would do. I seem to vary in surprising ways across universes and even from timeline to timeline, based solely on your current Jake's reactions thus far. I do actually own a Tumblr profile for the exclusive purpose of following social medias I wish to track, but I used a random username generator website for the username and not my own name, and I certainly never posted anything.

The news about the MWAF being able to hack is new to me; I must have missed that the first time I read through the screenshots. That is quite troubling. I suppose I will need to be more careful in future.

I am sincerely sorry your request for a vacation was rejected. I do not know how much you intend to separate your personal life and the Duskwood case, but if your stasis is truly wavering, you may be able to reveal some measure of the danger you are in to convince him to let you flee the area for a small while. Especially since you mentioned in your Tumblr post that you saw a raven note in your wor

Oh.

You need to leave that place. Now. Do not inform your employer of the danger you are in, reveal nothing to him or to anyone, take unpaid time off if you need to. Get your cousin and anyone else you care overly much about out of there too. Invalidate any information you can your employer or coworkers knows about you. Do not tell the truth to anyone, even your cousin. Make up any excuses you need to, ask your Jake for help with ideas if you need to. You may also wish to check that the coworkers your boss listed who are going on vacation are ACTUALLY going on vacation.

This is a priority, Liska. You need to tell your Jake all of this too, especially the part with the note in your workplace. You need to get out of there.

Good luck.

—Jake & Yuvon

(The letter tucks itself into the paper clip with the others.)

#duskwood letter game #yuvon writes letters #duskwood #duskwood game #duskwood everbyte #duskwood jake #lis

2 notes · View notes

fiction-in-my-blood · 4 years

Text

Obey Me! Brothers x MC’s Job HC

So this is a headcannon based on each brother’s MC having a job or experience in a field that would be somewhat benefit to them the most in work and play ;). Ya girl just wants to feel useful TT

Warnings: The SLIGHTEST reference of NSFW in some of the HCs

~~~~~~

Lucifer:

Okay, maybe an elementry school teacher wouldn’t directly help Big Brother Lucifer the most, especially when you were just out of supervised training, but you sure as hell can help keep some of his more troublesome problems at bay.

Having to deal with overexcitable, emotionally unstable, and honestly frequently hyped-up-on-sugar children just out of infancy has given you a backbone, not to meant a glare that’s strong enough to stop everyone still, but not scare.

Unless you wanted it to.

Not to mention that voice.

The range of your vocal cords could be heard even by Diavolo in his castle.

You needed it, dealing with crying children and sometimes parents who thought their child couldn’t possibly bully the girl they ‘crushed’ on when you had seen it with your own eyes.

And even after grabbing everyone’s attention in a room full of strong personalities, you’re more than capable of turning it down a bit to explain what the issue is.

“Levi, you can’t chop off Mammon’s hands to stop him from stealing your things.”

“Don’t you laugh, Mammon! You’re not off the hook just yet. Give Levi his figurine back before I put Goldie in the microwave, hm?”

“Asmodeus, you can’t go around stealing my underwear! What would your mother think of this?”

“Beelzebub, you can’t eat other people’s food without asking. How would you feel if I went along and ate all your blackbelly newt legs and your monkey brain pudding?”

“Mammon, this is your last warning. Put the money back where you found it.”

“Belphegor, you need to stop sleeping on the floor. Mamo keeps tripping over you and I don’t think we can afford any more screaming in this house.”

“Mammon! Do I need to send you to the quiet corner again?”

“Satan, clean up your books or they’re going back on the shelf out of order.”

Your use of their full names definitely felt like their were being reprimanded by a teacher.

Even if you sometimes treat the younger brothers like children, which will often cause a few snickers, you can’t really help it when they act the way they do.

Sometimes you get a little too carried away, on instinct threatening to cancel the end of year pizza party unless they start behaving, but Lucifer appreciates your attempts to restrain them all the same while chuckling along with everyone else.

You may act before you think, but you’ve brought his family closer together.

Mamo:

Being a professional pocker player would be just too easy.

That’s why it’s your weekend gig.

Besides from your backers and frequent trips to pocker tournements, you spent your nights, and sometimes at day parties, as a mixologist.

It may not seem like much, but bartending has helped you nuture a skill to read people and help them talk out their problems.

Which is the only reason Mamo hasn’t been thrown into the fiery pits of hell when a revengeful witch comes knocking every now and then.

You hear out his fraud victim’s troubles and show your understanding, wondering in the back of your head why, in Diavolo’s great Devildom, Mammon would agree to give away some of Satan’s incantations for a credit card that looked similar to Goldie?!

You manage to talk her out of taking his liver as payment and agree to help mix some potions you recently learnt at school, being a mixologist has helped in that regard as well.

A few times you’ve had to play some other demons in a game of cards in order to get Mammon back home safely.

It was only when you beat Soloman that Mamo first noticed your professional-grade talent.

You didn’t really want him knowing, you knew he wouldn’t be able to help himself but use you to his advantage, so you first said that it was a natural skill humans had- which no one believed and only made them all curious.

Eventually, you gave in to Mamo’s pestering and it was then you said you weren’t going to give him money.

At first, he was a little offended you’d think he would use you like that, but, for once, he listened to everyone’s harsh words and understood why you had that idea.

He was the Avatar of Greed, after all.

Ever since, he’s been working hard to show you he would never use you again.

Unless it was a life or death scenario with that one witch he conned a dragon’s egg from.

Levi:

It was impressive when you picked up Ancient Languages so quickly, but the otaku didn’t question it, at that time he didn’t have that much interest in you.

Then you were able to annunciate those words better than Satan or Lucifer or Diavolo, but maybe you were a quick learner?

It was only when you nonchalantly offered him the latest, unreleased, series of a longer-than-necessary-anime-title did Levi think to ask.

You were a translator in the human world.

Had more interest in the words than the story, but that was enough for him to start treating you less of a normie and more of a fellow recluse like him.

It didn’t take long after that when he realised you were THE MC.

The MC who had translated most of the anime he watched, even though he didn’t need to read subs, you were stil famous, and not only for translating.

You had dabbled in voice acting, mainly due to one conference call you had where the client asked you to voice for a minor character that would only be in for a few episodes of TSL.

It was a disasterous when the character died, having been quite a noble and vicious knight to the Lord of Shadow- who, of which, the lord also liked.

You weren’t going to tell him the character was booted off because you weren’t comfortable voice acting anymore.

However, he will have you read aloud lines he had found on a certain website where many like-minded fans wrote their own stories about the characters.

Lucifer caught the skript-like paper when he saw the word ‘master’ printed next to a less than savoury subject the eldest brother would not allow you to be tricked into saying.

Levi wasn’t too happy about that, ranting and raving how it was unfair and he needed to hear the Shadow Knight confess to the Lord of Shadow the way the fandom, and most of all, he, deserved.

You may have little clue what the animes your translating are about, but you never again reject the offer to have one of your own, walking to Levi’s room the second it reaches you in the mail and you spend practically all night binging on every word you wrote for him.

Satan:

When you first came to Devildom, you were particularly overly-curious.

Maybe it was because you were in a knew place, surrounded by beings you once thought only existed in stories?

Maybe you had that same respect for knowledge as Satan did?

Well, it would be easy to think that if it weren’t for the types of questions you asked each of the brothers, as well as the angels, Soloman, Barbatos and even the Prince of Devildom himself.

“What do you like to do on your days off?”

“Are you a tits or ass guy?”

“What’s your relationship like with your family?”

“Do you like men, women, or a bit of both?”

Every demon, witch, angel and whoever you met at RAD had the pleasure of being interrogated by you, your gracious smile and genuine concern for their answer coaxing them to tell you more than they would think to like.

When you wrote in that little journal, stock full of flyaway papers, the victim of your inquisitive nature would worry, for some reason, what you thought of them.

Still, you never let anyone look, not until you had the perfect match for the client.

A matchmaker, that’s what you were in the human world.

You paired couples, looking for marriage or a short term thing, with their perfect better half.

And you had been struggling to pair Satan with anyone.

“You have no interest in either of the sexes. How am I meant to find a girl for you when all you care about are dusty old books?” You muttered dismissively, speaking directly at the pages of your book, the two-page profile you had on Satan spread across the fine lined sheets.

You had been so enraptured in you quest for love that you didn’t notice the warmth looming over you.

“Who’s dusty old books?” The familiar teasing whisper graced your ear, way too close for comfort.

You turned, slamming the journal shut, but it was too late.

He had discovered your plan.

You quickly explained that you were a matchmaker back home and it was hard to hold back.

Even when you were with your human friends, you got carried away, pairing them with nice guys you met in the bar when you went on your weekly girl’s night.

Satan laughed at first, who couldn’t find their own mate?

Until he realised you couldn’t find anyone for him.

You’ve never seen him combust into flames so quickly.

You would be scared if you weren’t so annoyed.

“This is exactly my point! No one will want to be with you if you get this angry all the time!” You pouted, not realising the brothers that had run in at the drop of the proverbial hat, frozen in the doorway as they watched you, a human, talking smack to a demonic Satan.

They had come to save you once they heard him roaring in anger, but you seemed to be coping just fine on your own.

It took both of you a few weeks to realise, the reason you couldn’t find him anyone is because you wanted him.

Asmo:

You and Asmodeus had surprisingly philosophical conversations when you had only just met.

You would answer his teasing comments with very deep and personal questions, asking about his past relationships and how it made him feel to flirt with everyone he laid eyes on.

You had caught him off-guard a few times with your out of left-field inquiries.

One time, after you asked about any childhood trauma he may have had that could lead to his sexual nature, he actually got a little angry, losing his cool and throwing your question right back in your face.

He usually seemed to enjoy the strange back and forth, so you watched him devole into his demon-form with a startled gaze.

“I-I’m sorry, Asmo, I shouldn’t have asked that. Force of habit.”

You were blunt, distant and sometimes rude with your short questions, but when you told him those questions were something you were so familiar with they were a large part of your vocabularly, he had to know.

“How could that possibly be a habit?”

You were a relationships councillor.

You spent your days with arguing couples, coworkers who just couldn’t get along, and the odd friendship that had been torn apart thanks to one sleeping with the other’s partner.

You weren’t used to dealing with overly-friendly cilents, most would be crying about how sorry they were or silent with stubbonness, so you wanted to put that professional gap between the two of you.

But you never intended to hurt him or rehash memories you had no right to know.

“I’m meant to help people, but I can’t even treat the people I care about right.”

Before you had arrived in Devildom, you were pretty much a loner.

You were ambitious, pretty much a recluse outside of work, mainly because anyone you talked to would also get your brain shrinking questions.

“No human likes being asked if they really trust their partner.”

The self-deprecating laugh that left your down-turned lips in that moment pushed Asmo right back down to his usual laidback demeanor, imploring you to explain what you meant by that.

It was only right, you thought, you had been far too invasive for too long.

Asmo respected the work you told him about.

Even if long-term relationships weren’t his thing, or they hadn’t been until he met you, he understand that not everyone could live off the joys of primal lust.

Most people needed a lifelong partner that understood everything they were, ever the dark, twisted parts of them.

But, he didn’t like you tales of the threats you received when certain couples didn’t make it through your counciling sessions.

One too many times had a brick been thrown through the windshield of your car or had been generously gifted a death threat in the mail.

They never worried you, you were used to people finding you odd and anti-social, but it did hurt.

You had only ever wanted to help.

From then, Asmo learnt the psychologist tricks you had up your sleeve, intending to use them on his brothers if they were being particularly secretive.

Especially when you were the subject of their conversation.

He would often bring you to parties, pointing out couples on the dance floor or groups of people who were meant to be friends, asking you who had sexual tension and who were on their last straw with their other half.

You told him time and time again that it didn’t work like that, that you couldn’t just look at someone’s face and defer they were a serial killer.

But body language is a hell of a thing.

Beel:

Being a chef, you were often in the kitchen during the day, trying out recipes Mamo, Satan or Asmo had suggested to you.

Of course, they would often be pranks, potion recipes that would literally blow up in your face the moment you added the frog’s leg or eye of newt.

But, even the smell of the fire place blazing brought the Avatar of Gluttony sniffing around.

At first, he didn’t care what you made, he always cleaned up the mess of your failed experiement made.

When you actually started acting sad when his brothers pranked you again, it was his time to step in.

Instead of leaving you to do your own thing and reap the rewards of your failures, he sat in a wooden chair much too small for him, bearing with the emptiness of his stomach so he could really teach you about the ways of his world.

He told you what you actually needed to make his favourite meal, which he had overheard you ask Mammon one time as you walked to class together.

It was gross and difficult to learn how to cook with a cauldron and entrails of creatures, but you dealt with it because the look of pure, yet subtle, joy on Beel’s face when he ate what you meant to make was far worth the displeasure you went through to cook it.

When you got a couple days vacation from RAD, you somehow talked Mammon into taking you to the human world so you could buy real ingredients you were used to cooking with.

You wanted to prove to them all you weren’t as useless as you seemed when you first got there.

Of course, you would have to alter the recipes to the demons, but it shouldn’t be too hard.

You were a trained professional, after all.

And you definitely proved them all wrong.

Plates of fine dining, fresh vegetables, cakes and sweets.

Abundances of foods of varying cultures and spices.

It took you a whole day to make it all, but the stiffness in your back as you watched the demons, angels and Soloman alike walk into the banquet hall with looks of awe on their faces was enough to ease that pain.

You were exhausted and didn’t want to eat anything yourself, but that went unnoticed by everyone else.

Everyone else but Beelzebub, Avatar of Gluttony.

He pulled his attention away from the amazing food in his mouth long enough to see you sitting in your chair, hugging your legs to your chest and eyes closing a little longer every time you blinked.

You had never looked cuter, but he had never been more worried about you.

“You’re not going you eat anything?” His mouth was full of the fruits of your labour as he leaned over to grab your attention, continuing to shovel food into his mouth as he waited for you to reply.

“The best thing about my job is watching people enjoy it. I’m not hungry.” You yawned through a smile, letting your head rest on his shoulder as your heavy eyelids almost completely restricted your view of the show.

Everyone finally seemed to be getting along.

Diavolo noted to himself he would have a few words with you once the dinner was over.

Belphie:

“You’re a barista.”

Soloman smirked as you two sat together in class, waiting for the ending bell.

“No, I develop energy enhancers, which does include coffee. I literally make new, healthier products that help boost energy and motivation.”

Sure, your part-time job was in a coffee shop, but that was only to pay yourself through college.

The course was nutrionism, paired with a course in chemistry.

You had hoped to use your degree, when you did graduate, to make a product that didn’t cause heart attacks with the sugar content or make people stressed beyond belief on addictive caffeine.

You were a tired teen and survived high school on coffee, but that didn’t do well with your heart.

Now you had a medical condition and got even more tired than you did back then.

Since you couldn’t have coffee anymore, your research was mainly for you.

That’s why, when you hung out with Belphie, sleeping, ironically, you couldn’t be more jealous.

He slept and slept and slept, not a care to the centuries he was wasting doing so.

When you two got close, closer than he and Beel, you somehow managed to get him to test a prototype you had developed with the help of Solomo.

Being the only other human, he actually understood your aims, even if no one else did.

The brother teased you about the fagility of man until you told them about your condition, showing them the medication you had to take everyday to keep your heart beating.

The ones that did bully you, take a lucky guess, first unbelievably guilty, but you got them to pay you back by being your test subjects.

Often, they wouldn’t work, you were still trying to figure out what all these new potions meant and trying to work with the differences between demons and humans. Not to mention the strongest demons there are.

When Belphie did get tricked into drinking the energy concoctions you made, and when they finally worked, he wouldn’t be off the walls like Mammon and Asmo.

He remains docile, talking for a little longer than usual, actually showing interest in what his brothers, and you, did.

It’s not like he was a completely different person, he was still your Belphie, but he had just that little more energy he needed to seemed interested in life as a whole.

When you did admit to him that you had been esstentially drugging him, he took a moment to compute.

MC, the first human he had trusted in so long, had been tricking him to stay awake longer?

To ignore the sin he repesented?

You quickly explained that you had tested it hundreds of times, several times on yourself, like a true scientist, and that you just wanted to spend more time with him, he managed to calm down, just a little.

He jokingly second guessed every drink you handed him from then on, but, honestly, he was happy you had used him like that.

The reasoning for it, for you two to be able to spend more time together, getting to no each other when he wasn’t half asleep or yawning at your every other word.

Mammon had invested in your business venture, but Belphie would be your top customer.

#obey me!#obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me mamo #obey me levi #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me asmodeus #obey me beel #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphie #obey me belphegor #obey me hc #obey me headcanons

46 notes · View notes

beeexx · 5 years

Text

The concept of friends is still very strange to Theo. He’s not good at it, he doesn’t know how to do it. “I don’t do friends Boris.” He complained to Boris one evening, and Boris had scoffed. “No you don’t do friends Potter, you do me.” But the truth is, even before his mother he was bad at it. He’s never had many friends in his life, he’s always been rather awkward about it. And when his mother died, well after that everything seemed pointless. Who wanted to be friends with the motherless, angry, odd boy out anyway. Except it seemed, Boris. And Boris and him have never really been just friends, have they. But New York after Amsterdam is different. It’s almost like he’s living a completely new life. And with that, friends are included. It starts one evening when he and Boris take shelter under the nearest café they can find, hiding from the heavy downpour. “I told you we should have brought an umbrella.” Theo says as he shakes the water off his very expensive coat (Burberry), he eyes it with disdain, it better not ruin it. “Is just water Potter.” Boris says happily. Theo eyes their surroundings. It’s one of those cafés that turns into a bar after a certain time. It’s well... actually cozy. Candles on each and every table, and the chairs are mismatched. There are couches and armchairs spread about and the floor is dark wood. It’s a strange place but Theo finds that he can accept it. It’s far from those hippstery new places that seem to pop up everywhere in New York. With stupid white lighting and walls, fucking ikea furniture with plants on every table. It’s like a jungle and then of course the option for vegan food everywhere. It’s all new and modern and it has no fucking charm. Theo hates them. They get a table, because they might as well. It’s surprisingly busy, a mismatched of people of all ages. Theo kind of likes that too.

And that’s how they meet Valerie. She’s in her early 50s and she’s sat on her own, reading a book. Boris’s being, well Boris is unable to not engage in conversation with her, Theo wants to die. He remembers the book she was reading very clearly. The Waves by Virginia Woolf. Theo rolls his eyes. But she surprises him. She teaches at NYU, introduction to feminist studies. Boris’s already embarrassed Theo by claiming that women do not need to be studied, they are easy, it’s men who are the big mysteries in life. But Valerie chuckles and kindly asks Boris to develop what he’s just said. It turns into an engaging discussion that even Theo can’t help but in engage slightly in. By the end Boris is genuinely considering signing up for a course in women studies and Theo’s surprised to find that Valerie is not too bad as company. She has white long hair, almost down to her waits and she wears jumpsuits, always a different colour when they meet up. She’s cool, even though Theo kind of hates to admit it. She lives on her own, she has two cats. It’s a bit too cliché but Theo’s not one to judge, too much. Their group grows after that. There’s Bea who joins shortly after. She’s short and can’t seem to ever decide on her hair colour. Sometimes it’s bright pink, it’s been blue and green once. Now she seems quite settled on red. She’s always angry. Theo likes her immediately. She scowls and mutters and has it out for the world. She’s intelligent though, and Theo’s not actually sure which one out of the two of them is worse. She works with rescue dogs and on the side she designs websites. She has a girlfriend, Tessa, a nurse who works weird hours but is possibly one of the kindest people Theo’s ever met. They met after Bea had overdosed, it comes up once during conversation, and Theo says, surprising maybe all of them. “Yes, I have first hand experience with that too.” Bea looks at him, something passes between them and Theo thinks they might understand each other a little better after that. The last one to join them is Hugo. A trust fund, ‘daddy paid my way into Stamford’ baby. Who would normally be the last person Theo would ever spend time with. But Hugo’s sweet, too sweet maybe. Trusting but also nervous. Theo’s never seen a person as anxious and nervous as he is. He works for a bank on Wall Street. He hates it, but he’s too scared of everything to quit. By the age of 25 he’s burnt out twice already. He suffers from severe performance anxiety, to the extent that it is becoming hard to do a normal task. It doesn’t help that he’s a perfectionist either. He’s an overachiever without being arrogant. He’s the youngest of them all and yet he already has a soft spot in Theo’s heart.

It’s strange, but he likes them all. He’s even found he enjoys spending one on one time with them. They usually meet at the café, at least once a week. But sometimes they’ll meet up for dinner and game night. Bea and Tessa has an apartment in the village where they once made the mistake of playing Monopoly. It turned vicious, drinks were thrown, words were said and Theo swears he was ready to break up with Boris. They had some great make up sex after that but they will never play Monopoly again. “Capitalism is the devil, it has made America greedy.” Rings in Theo’s ears still. But yes, Theo is now a person that has friends, people he actually likes. It’s fucking weird. And they all come with their own sets of problems and not so squeaky clean pasts. It makes them interesting Theo’s realising. Not stupid and something that would take time out of his life. No, he finds that it’s nice. He’s learning to open up slowly, with people who don’t expect that much back from him. Who understands him in some ways. They’re carving out their own space in his heart. He didn’t know he even had the capability to care about more people than he did before them. But he does, and it’s a good feeling. Pippa’s so proud though. And she is the best friend (he hates the word) but she loves it and she even bought them a matching set of bracelets that he actually wears. She’s delighted. “I think I am his favourite.” She said jokingly to Boris once. “Potter, should I be jealous. You never wear anything I get you.” “You buy me a ring Boris and I will wear it.” Boris is actually speechless and Pippa spits out her wine. Theo smirks smugly. It’s not often he one ups Boris. The gang all love Pippa too, it’s not surprising. She’s just that kind of person that everyone likes. Theo really wishes she would spend more time in New York. He misses her always. But they video chat and they send each other memes and books and keep each other involved in their lives. It’s like before, but better. Much better. “Shit!” Theo hears Bea swear. He looks around. They’ve all frozen, some cheese dip have just ended up on the couch. “For fuck’s sake this is an expensive couch.” Theo says. “There he goes.” Boris says. They all look sheepishly at Theo. And he rolls his eyes. “You will all clean this with your bare hands later.” He warns but throws himself down anyway, his feet in Boris’s lap. The group collectively let out a sigh, Theo smirks. Damn right. They’re watching reruns of Bachelor in Paradise. Theo hates it, because they are all stupid. Who would even want to go to a nice paradise island to find the love of your life? But he competes with Bea over who can say the most outrageous sarcastic thing and the rest of them, well Theo hasn’t figured out if they like the show or if they love listening the the bitching. They stay late, and before they all leave they thankfully clean the couch.

#the goldfinch #my writings #theo x boris #the decker #boris pavlikovsky #yep theo has friends now and he likes it #I don't even know what this is but it always runs away from me

24 notes · View notes

prettywordsyouleft · 5 years

Text

Through His Eyes - Part 8

Summary: Losing your sight after your accident was traumatic, and Jaebum’s guilt of knowing it should have been him instead creates an intricate bond between you both, as you overcome adversity and try to find your way in life again.

Genre: angst / romance

Characters: Im Jaebum x female reader

A/N: This story is emotional and raw compared to some of the content on my blog. It is in no way an attempt to glamourise or undervalue the lives of those who suffer from something similar. This story is purely fictional.

Through His Eyes will be posted every Tuesday at 10am NZST.

Index: Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 [M] | 13 - FINAL

“I’m home,” you called out after successfully unlocking the door to your apartment within the first three attempts and stepped inside. You turned and bowed to your new minder, Suzie, and fare-welled her before closing the door.

“You’re home much earlier than I anticipated.”

You sighed heavily, stepping into your slippers and following the ramp up into the living area. You were now used to calculating your steps in the back of your mind as you did other tasks, and placed your bag down on the table before heading to the refrigerator. Feeling in the door for a bottle of water, you pulled one out and took it over to a chair at the table. “Don’t ask.”

“You seem unhappy, was your day bad?” You heard another chair pull out and your mother sat down, reaching for your hand gently. You frustrations eased with her touch, and you forgot all about your initial barrier of continuing the conversation.

“I have to do a group project.”

“On what?”

“We’re reading a classic novel called Jane Eyre at the moment and instead of doing an essay on it, which I would have much preferred, our lecturer has assigned us into groups of four to come up with a presentation on a topic within the novel. And of course, none of my partners are happy they got stuck with me.”

“I’m sure they aren’t that put-”

You placed your bottle down with more force than needed and shifted your head towards her direction. “They must think blind people are deaf as well, because they didn’t seem to realise I was nearby when they started to complain about having a disadvantage!”

“Oh.” Your Mum shifted uncomfortably in her seat, no doubt feeling angry hearing of another incident of you being singled out. You felt sorry for her having a daughter that faced so many woes within her education, when in the past you had never caused her any need to be concerned about your academics.

“And to top it off, others were very happy to not have me in their team. Do they think I can’t do the project because I’m blind?!”

“You work even harder than the average student to make sure you don’t fall behind. I’m sure when they realise that, they’ll be more accommodating towards you.”

You shook your head. “It shouldn’t be that I have to prove to them that I’m good enough though. They have no idea who I am, and how many offers I used to get from artists and galleries for my work in the past.”

“But that isn’t who you are now, Y/N,” she reminded gently, and you snapped your head towards her again, anger rising within your chest. She seemed to sense it and reached for your hand once more, which you shook off immediately. “It’s hard I-”

“IT’S ALWAYS HARD, ISN’T IT?!”

Getting up in a rush, you stumbled towards your bedroom and then slammed the door shut, panting heavily with your outburst. Soon the tears came and you sank to the ground, wrapping your arms around you for comfort. Ignoring the knocking and the calls on the other side of the door, you felt ashamed for taking your mood out on her. You hated that even when you were hurting the most, you still felt guilty towards how much she did for you every day and the sacrifices she had taken to help you.

“But for one day, I wish she would just allow me to complain without giving me the known answer,” you mumbled aloud before burying your head into your arms.

Two days went by and your mood had darkened further with the lack of faith from your fellow partners with the presentation. Since it was the weekend, your mother went to help your Aunt run her vegetable store, which you welcomed greatly.

You didn’t intend to move from bed for the entire day.

Around mid-morning, your stomach had other ideas however, so you relinquished to the hunger and went out to make some breakfast. Once fed, you stood within the middle of the living room, wrestling with your options. Bed had been your original safety zone, but now that you were up, it was tempting to go on your computer and waste your day listening to Youtube videos, catching up with online friends in the blind community, and peruse some trivial websites. After grabbing a bottle of water, you headed back into your room and opened the curtains, wincing at the same time as rejoicing in the bright light invading the room. It was an odd experience, you hated the intensity of the light at times, yet it made you feel as close to normal in your greyscale world as you could be.

“Let’s check my emails first,” you said to yourself as you set about the computer, mimicking the sounds the accessibility settings did as you navigated your way around the device. You opened your emails one after the other, listening through the message the robotic voice delivered and then discarded or replied to them as necessary. You were onto the last email when you froze, listening to the message as a cold sweat rushed over you.

“Y/N is invited to the opening of Lee Jaemin’s debut art exhibition, by the title of Expressive. The event-”

The computer started making incomprehensible sounds as you banged on the keyboard to make it stop talking, your breathing becoming erratic. You held your hands to your heaving chest as the sentence repeated over and over in your head, your body shaking at the idea of the girl opening her own exhibition. She had been your biggest competition throughout the years and had always come second to you in major events. Now with you out of the competition, not only had she been able to take your places within the local art scene, but was also offered what you had been working towards earlier this year.

For the first time since the accident, you hated Im Jaebum. For those first few moments, as you digested the information, you cursed your love of GOT7, of kpop, of even knowing the seven men existed. As your body shook all over with anger, you wanted nothing more than to return to the day you had won the exclusive pass and decline the opportunity.

You wanted your career back.

Yet, just as fast as it came, your mind travelled to that fateful moment, your once seeing eyes widening as you noticed the faulty beam first. Your instant reaction to save him, and the weight of the beam hitting you before it all went black. As the tears fell rapidly, your thoughts stopped on every gesture Jaebum had done for you since your world had turned upside down. The anger subdued for a bit, as you coped with the intense grief and guilt you suffered from wishing the beam onto him briefly instead. You rocked back and forth in the chair, unable to cope with the rapid directions your emotions were taking you, hoping your thoughts would ease off.

Instead, your needs narrowed onto one thing and you eventually stood up, heading out of your room as you roughly wiped the tears aside, as if the removal of them would assist in your blind search through the apartment for what you required. Feeling yourself around the walls, you found the storage closet and began using your hands and other senses to locate what you knew your mother hadn’t thrown out like you had insisted her to. It didn’t take long, your fingers falling upon the well-known texture of canvas, shifting along to find four others beside it. You yanked them all out from their hiding spot, tapping around on the ground for any of your tools. You found a bag and pulled that out as well, stopping when you banged into something as you moved the bag. You took that out too and then dragged your discoveries out around you, dropping in between it all and taking a steady breath.

You felt irrationally calm in that moment, and not because you were finally surrounded by what your life had consisted of. The need to feel each object in a slow, methodical examination outweighed anything else, letting your fingers run over every inch of each item. You became familiar all over again with how your tools felt, brushes and sculpting tools all being recognised by your hands. You soon realised the item next to the bag was the prized vase you had made earlier in the year, the ribbons awarded to it still attached. Your attention soon turned to the canvases, the bumps and textures making you think of all the Braille lessons so far, except the words were spoken in an art form, with no distinct answer as to what each piece was. For an immeasurable time, you attempted to guess what was which piece you had created. Every time you thought you had an answer, the next bump of paint would throw you off, frustrating you further. By the fifth canvas inspection, you were rigid, unable to understand anything you were touching.

The pent up emotions built until you could no longer suppress them and you got up, throwing the canvas down with a heavy thud. The sound it made seemed to provoke some kind of release in you and so you bent down, fumbling to find something else to throw, becoming fully invested in destroying everything you had just spent intricate effort in deciphering. The more noise, the more vigorous your actions became until the sound of the shattering clay hit you as if you were shattering your own heart. You crouched down in exhaustion from your emotions, crying consistently until you heard the keypad signal go off.

You didn’t have any energy to move to greet your mother, or to do anything about cleaning your mess either. You waited for her scolding to begin but the rushed feet towards you sounded too heavy to be her. You were confused and for a moment, you guarded yourself, not knowing what to expect.

“What…” You heard Jaebum utter and this was enough to make your legs give out, a cry leaving your lips as you landed on the shards of clay. “Y/N what are you doing?!”

“How did you know the passcode?” you asked tiredly, not giving him any help in lifting you away from the destruction scene. All the same, he attempted to pick you up again, your body trying to fight but had no energy left to leave any effect. He placed you down on the couch and you glared at what you hoped to be his direction. “Im Jaebum!”

“Your mother called me,” he explained, his hands ceasing in their examination of injuries. He shifted back, concerned at how you had spoken. “She told me you were having a hard time and so I said I would come and see you today in between my schedules. I was outside banging and pressing the doorbell, but you didn’t hear me at all. So I used the code I’ve seen you put in.”

You didn’t answer, unable to decide if you were angry with him for interrupting or thankful for his presence.

“Why were you doing that?” he questioned softly, his hands slowly returning to your legs. “Y/N, you’re bleeding.”

“I don’t care.” You looked away from him and tried to push his hands away. He grabbed your hand instead, his gentle nature having an effect on easing your frustrations. Even so, you attempted to hold onto the agitated emotion for as long as you could. “You should just go.”

“I’m not leaving you like this, you should see this place!”

“I wish I could!” you blurted out, and his grip on your hand eased off. You got up shakily from where he had put you and walked back down to where you had been. He grabbed you before you stepped on anything and you pointed to it desperately. “This is me, this is my world. Do you see how shattered this all is now? That is me!”

“Is it really?”

You nodded fervently. “You told me to express how I feel so I am! I’m sick of becoming something new. I am not an English Lit major, but an Art and Design student! I created all of this myself! Now… now I can’t even paint a single line across a piece of paper! Whilst people who I had worked hard to impress for years are now giving Lee Jaemin all the opportunities I was aiming for, I’m here in sweatpants and a tee with no hope of looking good to anyone, let alone impress them that I am someone to invest in. I’m here unable to do anything I want to because, because-”

“Because of me,” Jaebum concluded from behind you, lowering his head to your shoulder and his body began to shake with his own emotions. You moved around in his arms and hugged him tightly, both crying until you could no longer.

For some time you didn’t speak, not having any words to share with each other. And then you felt Jaebum move away from your side, his hands reaching for something on the ground. “This is beautiful.”

“What is?”

“This sunrise over a building top,” he mentioned and your mind went towards the artwork you had created after watching their You Are music video. “It’s captured beautifully.”

“It was inspired by you.” “It was?” You nodded and felt Jaebum move back to your side again, his hand reaching for yours and passing you the canvas. You felt the weight within your hand and sighed.

“I painted it after the You Are MV.”

“Ahh.” He was silent again, but moved back to the mess upon the floor. From his examination, three of the canvases were salvageable, whilst two remained helpless on the floor with the ceramic vase.

“I guess there is a lot of mess to clean up,” you said sadly, lowering your head and holding onto the sunrise canvas more preciously than you had all day.

“But we can clean it up and heal from it together,” he replied firmly, referring to more than the physical mess you had made.

You smiled, nodding your head. “I like the sound of that.”

_________________

[Part 9]

[GOT7 Masterlist] | [Main Masterlist] | [Request Guidelines]

134 notes · View notes

eldritchsurveys · 4 years

Text

680.

Do you or have you ever owned a cup with your name on it? >> Actually, I have two. One time there was this dude in Meijer who was doing a promotion for Guinness, and the promo was apparently... giving out custom-engraved pint glasses???? You told him your name and he had this machine that put it on the glass for you. It was weird, especially since it was free... The font that your name is in is a bit wack, though. The other thing I have is a wine glass painted with a nighttime-y scene with skeletal trees and ravens on it. It has my name painted on the stand part, along with the date of my wedding. Sparrow has one too, with her name on it. I’m not even sure where they came from, tbh, but they’re pretty.

What’s the most expensive crafts tool that you own? >> I don’t think I own any expensive crafts tools. The only things I have are, like, pencils, a sketchbook, knitting needles, and yarn.

Have you ever woven baskets of any kind (wicker, paper, cardboard etc.)? >> Maybe as a child.

How do you like Great Balls of Fire by Jerry Lee Lewis? >> It’s all right.

Speaking of Jerry Lee Lewis, have you seen the biopic about him? >> I don’t think so.

How about the biopic about Tina Turner? >> Yeah, I saw that one.

Do you like the TV-show Frasier? >> I do, it’s actually funnier to me now than when I was younger. Back then I thought it was boring but it kills me now.

What’s something you know by heart? >> A lot of song lyrics? Also, the Litany Against Fear.

What is something you’re greedy about? >> I don’t think I’m particularly greedy about anything.

How valuable does a coin have to be for you to bother to pick it up? >> I’d pick up a quarter, maybe. I’m just no longer in the financial position where picking up coins substantially enhances my available funds.

What would be something you would wait in line to get for free? >> It depends on how long the line is, what kind of mood I’m in, and where I am... not just on what the item is. If I’m in a good mood and the line seems manageable, I’d wait in it even if the item is just some random trinket that I have no real use for. If I’m not in a good mood and the line is insane, I wouldn’t wait in it even if it was for an expensive thing I’ve been wanting for ages.

Has there ever been a leak anywhere in your house? >> No.

Have you ever slipped in the shower? >> Not to the point of falling.

Have you ever made any decorative crafts? If so, are they displayed? >> Not in recent memory.

Is it very humid where you are right now? >> Nah.

What is the most suggestive thing someone has said to you? >> *shrug*

Do you have friends who you playfully flirt with? >> No.

Doesn’t the Z in the Bzoink logo look like an L to you, too? >> I mean, not really, but I see where you’re coming from.

Did you ever take that 5000 question survey that was circulating Tumblr? >> Yeah, I took it a long time ago. Once the novelty wore off, I realised that most of the questions were just terrible IMO, which is bound to happen once you endeavour to write a survey with quite that many questions.

Have you ever had to change a zipper in your favourite article of clothing? >> No.

Do you prefer buttons or zippers in general? >> Zippers.

Did you grandma have a box full of pretty buttons? >> ---

What’s the most exotic spice in your spice rack? >> Hmm... garam masala, maybe? We have a wide variety.

Do buttons tempt you to press them? >> Not usually, but sometimes.

Do you have a favourite television host? >> No.

What’s your opinion on celebrity chefs? >> I think some of them are cool and fun to watch. Alton Brown is probably my fave.

Back when it first started, did you watch ANTM? >> I think I’ve seen a season or two. I knew someone who got on it, too (Isis King).

Did you know, that there was even a Finnish version of ANTM? Miss Jay made an appearance in the first season, too. >> No, I didn’t know that, but it makes sense. There are a bunch of those shows modeled after American Idol, too, for different countries.

Are you accident prone? >> No.

Have you ever broken something really valuable? >> I accidentally broke a laptop screen once, and that was pretty damn valuable to me.

What do you see as timeless? >> ---

What is something that you own, that has sentimental value? >> Most of these plushies.

Have you ever had your own website? >> Yeah, I’ve taken stabs at it.

What’s your favourite board game? >> ---

How about your favourite card game? >> ---

What’s something that you finished recently? >> I finished watching Sparrow play through Death Stranding, lol. I’m glad it was her and not me, because I’m pretty sure that game would have made me ragequit within the first few hours, and that would have been a shame.

What’s the smallest town you recall visiting? >> I have no idea.

What’s the longest distance you’ve had to go to work or school? >> ---

Would you learn a new language, if you didn’t share one with your lover? >> Oh, like in Love Actually? I mean, I can’t imagine myself in that situation, but I thought it was cute.

Do you have friends who are constantly tagging you in challenges on FB? >> No. People who have me on facebook should know I prefer to do my actual fun socialising on here or Discord.

When it comes to chocolate, do you prefer nougat, jelly or caramel filling? >> ---

Are you more concerned about winning than just participating? >> No.

Has somebody you know taken their own life? >> No.

What is a number that has some significance to you? Why is that? >> 9. Well, there’s a lot of synchronicity.

Do you prefer onions, leeks or chives? >> I don’t think I have a preference, I’ll take all three. Onions may be the most versatile, though, so maybe those.

What’s the most adult thing you have to do every day? >> I don’t think I have to do any adult thing every day. Maybe feeding myself is an adult thing? Although teenagers and even kids do that too.

What’s the most immature thing you like to do every day? >> ---

Have you seen the movie, Clue? If so, isn’t it fab? >> No, but I’ve seen some funny gifsets that make me think it’d probably be a good time. I might give it a shot if I run into it on a streaming service one day.

Do your cheeks get flushed easily? Do you blush easily in general? >> No, I’ve never felt that feeling.

Are there any social cues you miss entirely? >> Oh, definitely.

When someone doesn’t smile back at you, what’s your first thought? >> They probably didn’t want to, and that’s okay. I don’t always want to smile at everyone who smiles at me, either, and it shouldn’t be a mark against my character just because I don’t smile at a stranger. But, you know, whatever. Any stranger that takes that much offense at me not smiling at them probably wouldn’t get along with me for very long anyway, so it’s a useful social litmus test in the end.

Is there a person who melts your heart just by looking at you? >> No. Well, maybe Can Calah sometimes.

Have you ever had tom kha kai? It’s a Thai coconut soup, and it’s amazing. We serve it at work. >> No, but I’d definitely try it.

Have you, or anyone you know ever been rude to a server? >> I’ve never had the experience of having to watch someone I’m with be rude to a server and I am so glad for that.

What’s something you’re opinionated and very vocal about? When’s the last time you had to verbally defend your stance? >> I don’t know. I don’t really defend any stance of mine, I just put it out there sometimes if I feel like rambling about it and then leave it alone. Arguing with people about shit that ultimately really don’t matter is a waste of my valuable energy.

Have you ever played BitLife? I sort of got hooked on it, it’s like sims but in text form. >> No. I quite like the graphical form of The Sims, so I’ll stick to that.

What’s something you regularly order online? >> CBD.

When’s the last time you made a penpal? >> I’ve never had one.

Do you often make friends online? >> I make a lot of acquaintances online. Friends are far fewer.

Do people ever try to get something from somebody through you? As in, they ask you to ask the person they should be asking in the first place. If that makes sense. >> No. Which is good, because I wouldn’t do it.

What do you think when you see a couple holding hands? >> Nothing???

Is there anything you’re forced to share with someone else? >> No.

What’s something stripy that you own? >> I have a black-and-royal-blue striped robe with the Ravenclaw logo on the back.

How about something polka dotted? >> Nothing.

What is something you find absolutely appalling? >> Some people’s utterly disrespectful behaviour on this website.

Do you like elevators? >> I mean, they’re fine. I don’t dislike them.

What’s the first thing that comes to mind when I say “midnight madness”? >> Like... premieres? Or book releases? Or something like that. I have a vague association but I can’t remember exactly where it comes from.

What is a country you would never want to visit? >> ---

When you’re angry, does it ever get physical? >> Well, yeah, but not necessarily towards someone else.

What do you do, when you’re immensely happy? >> It depends on how I feel like expressing it at the time? Sometimes I don’t express it much at all, and sometimes I literally jump around the room.

What made you scream out loud the last time you screamed? >> ---

Can you hear your neighbours through the wall? >> Sometimes.

What is something that frustrates you to no end? >> Noise.

Do you wear shoes indoors? >> Absolutely not.

Who is your favourite stand-up comedian? >> Bo Burnham, Dylan Moran, and in general I’m fond of how Tiffany Haddish presents as a person and performer.

What’s the weirdest video youtube has suggested to you? >> It doesn’t usually suggest me anything weird.

What’s the funniest infomercial you’ve seen? >> ---

Is there a drink that just goes right through you? >> I don’t feel that way about any drink, no.

Is there a food item you can’t eat because it doesn’t agree with you? >> Not that I’ve encountered.

Do you playfully compete with someone about something? >> No.

Would you rather swim or run? >> I can’t swim, so my options are a little limited here.

Do you like the smell of tar? >> Sometimes, yeah.

Have you ever been to a sauna? >> No. I couldn’t last two minutes in a sauna.

Does your doorbell ring unexpectedly often? >> Not often, but sometimes people will ring multiple apartments trying to get into the building, which is fucking irritating.

Is your favourite fictional character a human, an animal or something else? >> I am my favourite fictional character. /facetious

Have you ever helped a stranger? If so, what did you do? >> I mean, sure. Just simple stuff, like picking up something they’ve dropped or letting them know they’ve left their key in the apartment door or dropping their mail off when it gets mistakenly put into my box.

Do you share hobbies with any of your friends? What do you do together? >> ---

Do you have any flags on display? If so, what flag(s)? >> I don’t. Sparrow has a rainbow flag with a peace sign in the middle on her wall.

#surveys #survey #random survey

2 notes · View notes

futurestrong · 4 years

Text

Self Awareness and Self Love: ‘What about me?’

By Dr Kathryn Murray

Education specialist, Author, Public Speaker.

“What about me, it isn't fair I've had enough now I want my share Can't you see I wanna live But you just take more than you give”

The words of Australian singer Shannon Noll resonate with many of us. I remember thinking this when I found myself without a job, broke after having to sell my house, car and more. My life had turned upside down – I found myself in a desperate financial situation because I trusted someone! That trust meant I had to sell everything to pay off debt—and some of the debt wasn’t even mine! So, many, many times, I found the lyrics of this song running through my mind: “…it isn’t fair! I’ve had enough now I want my share!”

We humans commonly default to blaming difficult times on the actions of someone else. We believe that it’s all their fault. I wouldn’t be in this situation if it wasn’t for them! Then we begin to beat ourselves up over what could or should have been. The self-recrimination tape plays: I should have known better. I should never have trusted him. I’m smarter than this.

Does any of this sound familiar?

There seems to be a common pattern that I’ve noticed in myself and in the process that my friends have gone through when “stuff” happens. It’s almost like a grieving process on our journey to a happier time.

In my experience, it went something like this:

1. Disbelief, fear and confusion. The acknowledgement of the situation coupled with the feeling that this is all a nightmare that I will wake up from. Such mixed feeling or disbelief and realisation. I must have misunderstood! How could he have done that? What does this mean for me and my future? How can I support my kids when I can’t support myself? I’m such a failure.

2. Anger and betrayal. A few swear words may or may not have been said! That feeling of getting even came over me. I felt determined not to be beaten. In this stage, I tried to remind myself: I am strong and can deal with anything. I have the whole universe working with me. That helped a little but didn’t change the reality.

3. Hurt and tears. I struggled to understand how someone could make such a negative impact on my life when I’m a nice person, and I’d never treat someone like I was being treated. I tried to understand his reasoning for the decisions he made and tried to identify my own part in this. In some ways, I didn’t want to face this and went into denial. This can’t be happening to me!

4. Victim thoughts. This is where the Shannon Noll song came back on repeat: “It isn’t fair” along with the feelings of shame, foolishness, embarrassment, and disappointment for allowing this to happen. If I’m honest, there was probably a bit of self-destruction going on at this point. I couldn’t see that things would ever be better. I was always going to struggle, be poor, never trust anyone, and I never, ever wanted to date or have a partner again—ever! Poor me. It isn’t fair!

5. Blaming and shaming. Then I started to throw blame in his direction, allocating him as 90% responsible for where I was in life! I felt as though I’d been taken advantage of and control over my life had been taken from me. Now, I was at the tricky part of my journey. I had to recognise the victim behaviours and the blame mentality that was leading me to think, choose, and make decisions from weakness, not strength. I was living in a deficit mindset, focusing on all that I lacked.

Realisation of the implications of the situation. Reality and a sense of urgency set in as I watched my financial and emotional state get worse. I started to recognise the type of role model I was being for my children. Ok, get a grip. This is REAL! This is how things are now, so what am I going to do. I need to pick up what I can and move forward. Being angry isn’t helping to get back on my feet. I don’t want to be that angry, bitter, and twisted woman!

6. Knight in shining armour. Because I was in such a down state, I yearned for someone to save me, help me, fix things—it didn’t matter who. Maybe I’ll win some money… someone has to, right? Maybe a friend will sort out the legal issues for me. Subconsciously, I was thinking that if I just ignore this long enough then someone or something will happen and sort it out for me.

7. Self-empowerment. It seemed to take a very long time to get to this point, but it was actually only months to get to this realisation. Guess what - No one came to rescue me and nothing happened! I didn’t win any money, and all the problems were still there. This realisation created a shift inside me. No one is going to fix my life for me. Time to take back my power! Yes! Then came the turn around that made be grow and get better and better within myself. I became a powerhouse!

I’ve always been spiritual, very self reflective, and self-aware. I realised that I had all the tools within me to deal with this situation and deal with it for the best possible outcome for all concerned. I was reminded of the statistics that our actions are based on 10% of what happens and 90% of how we respond.

I chose to use my brain to work out a solution, even though I was very fearful of how to move forward. I was frozen with fear some days. I had to face some unpleasant tasks, deal with people I’d rather avoid, speak my truth, be assertive, navigate financial and legal issues, and more. None of it was easy or fun. It made me anxious and nervous.

Slowly, though, I began to see just how strong I was. My women friends became my cheerleaders and sounding boards. I began to go to business networking events and met some amazing people who had also dealt with difficulty and risen above it. I began to do more public speaking gigs with different audiences, customising the topics so the messages related to them.

I began to see ME! I realised that I quite liked ME!

While dealing with a rollercoaster of emotions during the past few years, I hadn’t given myself time to enjoy life. I was too busy surviving, or so I thought, stuck in a victim mentality while I waited for someone to rescue me. When I look back, I think that I was really just hiding from the world and avoiding what I knew I must do to clear this situation. I continued to work and no one would have known about the internal struggles I had with myself, trying to deal with things I just didn’t want to, or didn’t think I should have to.

Falling in Love!

So, I decided to date. I was ready. I wanted to go out into the world. I thought that I still had a reasonable figure, still looked ok, had a lot to offer, enjoyed lots of activities, and I really love people and love to laugh. Unexpectedly, I met this amazing person. We went to the movies, out to dinner, camping, on picnics, and this summer we will go snorkelling and spend a lot of time at the beach. Just like I used to before the rollercoaster ride. The person I met is a lot like me. I feel appreciated, loved, wanted, respected, and I look forward to our dates. I don’t feel alone anymore. It’s wonderful. I’ve found love!

Who have I found? Well… I found ME! I’m dating myself!

I’m showering myself with self love and appreciation. I choose to use positive words when I describe myself. I find the best features of me and focus on that, even though I acknowledge all of my features. We all have them, don’t we – the bits we’d rather hide? And it’s what makes us real. I tell myself how smart I am. I share my knowledge and skills openly. I give gratitude every day for the little, wonderful things in my life, like the washing machine that washes my clothes, the candle that smells divine, the dog who is always happy to see me, the sun on my face, the coffee in my cup—the simple things. I give myself time, care, and consideration. But most of all, I give gratitude for me. I love me! I’m so glad that I have met me again because I’m pretty awesome!

That childhood game that we have all heard when plucking flower petals from the stalk—“loves me… loves me not?”—doesn’t apply to me anymore. Because I know I love me. The anger has gone. The thoughts and actions of the victim, blamer, and martyr sometimes surface again, but my love for myself generally keeps them under control.

I have found that my change of energy is drawing people to me. Clients seek me out, people smile at me in the street, people want to be around me—and I want to be around me! One day, I might date someone else, but right now I am very happy with my date, my constant companion—ME!

Does this self-awakening sound like a journey you also want to take? Do you love yourself? Feel free to use my story for your own inspiration. 😊

Give me a call. I’d love to chat with you.

If you want to know more, then I’d love to connect with you! Contact me through my website www.futurestrongeducation.com OR join me on our Facebook page – Future Strong Education.

Dr Kathryn Murray has worked with children and families for 35 years as a teacher, researcher and university lecturer. Kathy is the CEO of Future Strong Education supporting parents and children through workshops and speaking engagements.

1 note · View note

adecila · 5 years

Text

Game of Thrones - 8x03 preview analysis + speculation

Or the moment I realise I am blind as a bat and I need glasses.

Busy week, but hey we’re still 3 days away from what has been advertised as an episode that will kill us. At a whoopin’ 80 (ish; 82 according to some websites, 79 according to others so I’ll just say 80) minutes and advertised as the longest battle in television (surpassing LoTR) I am ready to die!

Wait wait does this mean it will be 80 minutes of stress? 80 minutes of fighting? 80 minutes of me yelling at the screen JON NO and KHALESSI NO until my throat is sore and I barely have any voice left? Yeah, probably.

Anyway- this is probably more on the speculation and prediction side since we don’t have that much to go off of….

Unlike the preview / promo / trailer –whatever you want to call it– we got for episode 2, episode 3 gave us a big fat nothing. Mhm, basically.

But first the famous 6 photos EW gave us: (also a big pile of nothing!)

S.ansa looking worried, sitting, maybe glossy eyed - interior? exterior? Who the hell knows. Technically, as per episode 2 S.ansa is to stay in the crypts with the other women and children.

Ser Brienne of Tarth and Jaime fookin’ Lannister and some Knights of the Vale (noice shields) - this looks like an actual screengrab from the episode, and from their faces something it’s INCOMING. I am trying not to read too much into it, but tbh their faces can be just from seeing the huge ass army coming at them.

Jonno mah man, my stupid son (and I say this with all the love in my heart) lookin’ sweaty, and rough and shooketh and I cannot help but to think something BIG is happening. Could it be something as simple as coming face to face again with our main boss the Night King himself? Could it be another “bitch watch me use your fallen men against you” moment? Could it be someone he cares dying in front of him? Could it be the dead surrounding them? Honestly guys this preview is giving me nothing, except anxiety. There’s some fire burning behind him, it can be dragon fire or it can just be fire they made in order to keep the dead at bay (as seen in the next pic). It is snowing and we can see fire behind him. Also also this pic clearly proves that HBO intentionally darkened the trailer since in the trailer we see the clip with Jonno running and this pic is from that exact scene. Gosh, his face tho - LISTEN he looks terrified.

Jonerys overlooking Winterfell, but from the North-West side? So clearly at one point in the battle they get to this vantage point so they can see better. I am assuming that it’s quite early into the episode, since Jon still has his furs on, whereas in the previous photo he had no cloak and looked like he had already fought for some time; we see the forces spread out exactly like on the map (as I explained it in my 8x02 analysis when the war council happened), and oh my it looks glorious. We also see some fire strategically lit and it looks beautiful. Now BURN IT TO THE GROUND. Jk but also not jk; asoiaf theories on how Winterfell is meant to be destroyed at one point in the story are a-plenty ! Last night @muttpeeta asked me if I could see the dead in this pic and I said bitch I can’t see shit. I guess in the right down corner are just trees, so maybe the dead are in the trees (lmao just imagined them in the trees). On the other hand, @thescarletgarden1990 said she could maaaaybe see something in the left dark corner… gurl, I still can’t see shit. Uff notice how Jon x Dany suddenly have a space in between them? Ah, remember when we had nice things like when they had no idea what “personal space” meant? Hang onto your hats for the angst, bitches.

S.ansa x Arya on the battlements. Is it just me or is there something like a bar or blade or maybe a bow on Arya’s left side, almost resting on her shoulder? The spear Gendry made her? Maybe it’s an optical illusion. Also seems pre-battle, also seems quite early in the episode, when we have still time for dialogue. Hmm.. maybe that first S.ansa pic is in the same scene, but before? S.ansa looks a bit worried and shit I would be too. Scratch that, I think the first S.ansa pic is after the discussion with Arya.

Tyrion x Varys in the crypts, chatting to kill time whilst everyone else is getting killed. I also expect this to be in the very first part of the episode.

See, exactly what I said, they gave us something without giving us anything.

Now, onto the preview:

“The most heroic thing we can do now is look the truth in the face” - voiceover by S.ansa, as the screen flashes to: the troops, Grey Worm, Jonerys at the vantage point, Sam, S.ansa x Arya on battlements, Davos on battlements, women x children x Varys x Tyrion in the crypts, Jorah. Interesting line though, what truth is she talking about? Jon’s parents? I doubt. The fact that the dead actually exist? Remember when I said S.ansa doesn’t seem to believe Jon much?…

“The Night King is comin” - voiceover by Jon - we see Jon scared shitless, (from the photo we also got), the army in position, Arya running (from the trailer), Unsullied marching in formation, Beric x the Hound (INSIDE WF? WHAT???), Dany on Drogon in a blizzard, more Unsullied, Theon with a bow with fire in the Godswood, Jonno pulling out Longclaw in the Godswood looking a bit too sad/disturbed/scared???

Jonerys at the vantage point, face to face, Dany saying to Jon “The dead are already here”, she looks angry, Jon looks … emo :D

Ser Brienne yelling to her flank “Stand your ground”

Now, let me regroup all my thoughts now that I made a general break down of the photos and the actual preview, let’s discuss what I think it will happen. This time I am heavily relying on speculation since tbh we don’t have much to go off.

About Jonerys:

Yeah, I don’t think they are just going to get over the parentage reveal that fast. My guess, based on how 8x02 ended and on the way Dany says “The dead are already here” is that there is going to be some tension. A lot of it. My best guess? the conflict isn’t going to be solved until 8x04 at the earliest.

I told @smoldany I am thinking Jon wants to stick to the plan (contrary to what he did in BoB) and Dany will maybe see her troops getting smashed. As I mentioned, they make the vanguard so they will get hit the most. I imagine Dany is still shook from the reveal and when Jon will tell her to stick to the plan, she will go KHALESSI YES and mount on Drogon and go fuck up some wights and WW and protect her people because that’s what she does. Maybe Jon tells her something along the “The NK isn’t here” and she replies that exact phrase we hear in the preview.

I am expecting some sort of rift between them mid battle. I know, I have mentioned it, but that’s what happens when person A and B go into a fight for life while they are also fighting.

I mentioned in an ask how we will get a parallel to the scene beyond the wall where Jon falls into ice water in front of Dany. I am expecting something like this to happen, but reversed. This time it will be Dany falling and Jon running, watching something in horror. Maybe she falls off Drogon, maybe she falls with Drogon, but something happens, because I swear that Jon pic where he looks horrified it’s all I can think of. Plus! We haven’t seen Dany in armour yet! What if the Red/Black Dragonstone dress from the teaser is actually her armour? Maybe she gets injured and they finally decide she should get armour. Why? Well, I cannot stop thinking of what Tyrion said in season 7, that it only takes a well shot arrow for it to be all over. I also think that if this isn’t the moment she gets injured on Drogon, it will come later, probably in 8x05.

Plus, c’mon, they have to make us think (even for a few minutes) for maximum angst ™ that one of the two heroes may die.

If we get Jon carrying Dany to safety I will be the happiest.

If what I said happens, we also have all the chances of getting the I THOUGHT I LOST YOU kiss I keep mentioning. D&D do not fuck this up for me.

The Crypts or “sure, the Lich Night King is coming, you know what would be a good idea? To go sit in the motherfucking crypts where the motherfucking dead are kept.”

Look. Do I believe the dead will rise in the crypts? Mmmmm not really. Except maybe Rickon, because he is the freshest dead person to be put here. There is a lot of foreshadowing in the books that the dead in the crypts may rise in a form or another, but… I don’t think it will happen in the show.

However! Since the crypts have been mentioned a lot, I am inclined to thing something BIG will happen. My best bet? The dead push through the gates and the Mormont forces and they make it to the crypts. AHA but you will say - “UMMM aLiCe but the people are then sitting ducks” - well, not necessarily. There are a lot of secret passages in Winterfell, if you remember, that’s how Bran escaped ! So if the dead are to invade the crypts, I am guessing at least some of the people will flee through the tunnels. We just have too many big characters there for them to die so soon, at least Tyrion. Let’s be real, Tyrion won’t die now. He has to flee somehow.

Winter FELL

I told my friend @tomakeitbeautifultolive once that I thought the fight for Winterfell is doomed from the start. Imo, this keep is meant to fall, and the NK will have a victory here.

While we’re on the subject of Winterfell, lemme bring up my theory that it will be a sort of Culling of Stratholme situation from WoW. In case you’re interested, click on that link, the lore is so rich in this game, but I digress. I think the bittersweet part if they don’t get slammed and pushed to retreat or die, it will be a sort of decision - aka if we don’t burn as much as the fallen as we can then we are just adding more forces to the AoTD. So… I am thinking there will be a point where the dead are clearly winning and they cannot take any more chances, so they burn as much as they can, living and dead, especially inside of WInterfell. Or maybe I am just too MUCH :D

Regardless if Winterfell is being sacrificed or not, our heroes will be forced to retreat. Because if you think the NK is going to be defeated in episode 3/6 …..

Where the fuck is the Night King then?

Funny how we haven’t seen the NK in the trailer, nor in the preview for this episode, nor at the end of episode 2 - we just saw the WW on their horses.

Will he even be at WF? Idk man their plan looks pretty dumb. And as far as I remember, the NK could see Bran. The NK knew Dany was coming and was prepared with spears for dragons (and chains!). So why the fuck would he not be able to see this shitty ass plan???

I told some of my friends that I think the NK will fool them, send his forces to WF while he will either stay on the sides for as much as he can in order to bait Dany and/or Jon… (so he will swoop in let’s say mid battle - maybe that’s why we see Dany on Drogon in a blizzard, or idk, we saw the weather change also when WW are present, so you never know) or go to the Isle of Faces because I think he may want to destroy some big important weirdwood tree… or maybe I am thinking again too much about WoW and I am getting Teldrassil vibes

Bran Starkashian waiting for his date with the NK under the weridwood tree

Uff I think this is the part of the plan that will backfire the most

I am 99% sure this is where Theon dies, while defending Bran because the dead are gonna come to the Godswood for Bran’s sexy ass

I told @tomakeitbeautifultolive that Jonno looks too distressed and oddly calm when he is drawing Longclaw and he looks to also be in the Godswood - oh gosh what if he mercy kills someone ? Oh gosh what if it’s Theon… or Rickon…

But Alice, what about Cersei and her GC? And Bronn?

I honestly don’t know. Weird how Cersei seems to have a plan in place. So what happened to Euron after ep 1? Did he get mad when Yara got rescued? Is the GC just gonna sit in KL and wait for an attack? Are they marching North? Are they gonna also arrive in WF while the dead are there?

I just want to mention that in the trailer, when Arya does her spear thingy, it seems there is blood spatter from one of the people she hits… “but wights don’t bleed, Alice,” - I hear you say. Exactly, buddy. EXACTLY. So who the hell is Arya killing? just something to keep in mind.

Last thoughts:

Jorah will die - as Theon, his arc is fulfilled, and especially after his heart to heart with Dany in 8x02 I am 99% sure he dies.

Grey also may die. Listen, I was surprised he made it alive out of Casterly Rock. I don’t think he will get to take Missandei to Naath…

I’m thinking 5-ish minutes of intro + 60 ish of action + the rest is the retreat

The jonerys conflict will most likely continue into 8x04, where it may get solved - if not, 8x05 for the makeup sex.

Beric dies; either Podrick or Jaime die, but not both

Edd dies

ALIVE: The Starks + Gendry + Dadvos + Missandei + Lyanna Mormont + the Hound + Sam + Gilly + Little Sam + Brienne + Ghost + Tormund

I am still holding off for Nymeria and her pack!

Bottom line is, I am pumped for this episode, it is gonna hurt as hell, so yeah! Asks and dms are open, as usual, so feel free to ask questions if there is something I missed. See you on Sunday! Bring wine and food!

#got 8x03 promo #got 8x03 trailer #game of thrones #game of thrones predictions #got speculation #i wish i had more for you like last time but you have seen the trailer #thats all i got

32 notes · View notes