#but there’s this assumption I’m going to start sending them on coffee dates I dunno

[bharv]

There’s some kind of much deeper post about the assumption when you ship two characters that they’re going to have a very heteronormative idea of a successful relationship (marriage, kids, happily ever after) and how that often bleeds into comments on “why would you ship x” imo

[tails89]

Fandom: Teen Wolf Word count: 1289 Read on AO3

“You will not believe what just happened to me,” Stiles whines, bursting in through the front door and dropping down onto the couch beside Derek. Kicking off his shoes, he throws his feet up to hang over the armrest and slumps backwards into the cushions.

Derek doesn’t move—just glances around the pages of his book muttering under his breath, “Hey Derek. Nice to see you Derek. Can I come in? Sure Stiles, make yourself at home.”

“Pfft, this isn’t about you,” Stiles grins, flapping his hand at Derek. “Actually-” he sits up suddenly, pulling in his legs to cross them underneath himself. “It is. Do you know what Mrs Davidson said to me today?”

“Let me guess.” Derek throws one arm across the back of the couch. “She said, ‘here comes trouble’?”

“Uh, no.” Stiles rolls his eyes. “She asked me-” He lets his voice go high and reedy in a poor imitation of his elderly neighbour. “’What’s a nice boy like Derek Hale is doing with a boy like you?’ Which, first of all—rude! Second of all, me corrupt you?”

“Yeah, where on earth would she get that idea?” Derek asks, finally giving up on his book and slipping an old receipt into the pages to mark his spot.

“Hey, I am an upstanding young citizen,” Stiles argues, flopping back, his head pillowed against Derek’s thigh. “I am a pillar of this community. I mould the young minds of Beacon Hills.”

Derek barks out a laugh. “Who thought that was a good idea?”

Rolling over onto his stomach, Stiles steadies himself on one elbow and uses the other hand to poke Derek in the leg. “You sir, have everyone one tricked into thinking you’re Mr Deputy Goody-two-shoes, but I know the real you.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah, and I know who of the two of us dug up Mrs Davidson’s daffodils, and it wasn’t me.”

“That was an accident and you promised not to bring that up again.”

“Well I’m a lying liar who lies.”

With a quick shove, Derek sends Stiles tumbling onto the floor and stands, moving for the kitchen. “And that’s why your neighbour thinks you’re corrupting me. You staying for dinner?”

“Yup, you making spaghetti?” Stiles asks, following Derek into the kitchen and hopping up onto the counter to watch him start pulling things from the fridge. He swings his legs, knocking his heels against the cabinet doors. “I distinctly remember you promising to make your Dad’s famous spaghetti if I made it through parent-teacher week without murdering anyone.”

*

“What does she even mean by that, anyway?” Stiles asks around a mouthful of pasta, his next forkful hovering halfway to his mouth.

Derek waits, tearing off another slice of garlic bread, for Stiles to explain his logic jump.

“Who?” He prompts, when the explanation never comes.

“Mrs Davidson,” Stiles tells him, like it was an obvious connection to make. “Why does she think we’re together?”

Shrugging, Derek uses his garlic bread to mop up the last of the bolognaise sauce. “We hang out a lot,” he says. “You’re either over here or I’m over at your place. It’s not an unreasonable assumption to make.” He pops the bread into his mouth and reaches for Stiles’ now empty bowl.

“I got it.” Stiles waves him off. “You cooked; I can clean up.” He stands, stacking the empty bowls on top of each other. “I’ll get the icecream if you queue up the next episode of Narcos.”

*

“I’ll be right back,” Stiles says suddenly. “Don’t let the next episode start.”

He disappears from the living room and Derek takes the opportunity to stretch out on the couch. It’s getting late, but the last episode had ended on a cliffhanger so there’s no way they can leave it there.

Reaching for the remote, Derek checks how many episodes are left—three. Tomorrow’s Saturday, so Stiles is off and Derek’s on a late shift so they can probably finish the season before calling it a night.

“You’re in my spot,” Stiles says, shuffling back into the room.

“It’s my couch,” Derek says, making a show of getting comfortable. “I think you’ll find it’s all my spot.”

Stiles slaps jokingly at his legs until Derek lifts them, dropping them down into Stiles’ lap once the human is sitting again.

“You’re such a couch hog,” Stiles complains, but he doesn’t push Derek’s sock-clad feet away. Instead, he stretches out with his own legs up on the coffee table.  “You know, I only come over here when Dad’s on the late shift.”

Derek’s finger hovers over the button on the remote but he doesn’t press play. “I know.” And it’s true, because when the Sheriff is home, Derek’s usually over at the Stilinski house with them.

“I just- do other people think we’re dating?” Stiles asks. “Like is this a widespread thing or is it just my neighbour? Do you think my dad thinks we’re dating?”

“I think you’re overthinking this,” Derek says, nudging Stiles’ leg with his foot. “Can I hit play now?” He doesn’t wait for Stiles to respond and the title card of the next episode flashes up on the TV.

*

“Hey, what time is it?” Stiles mumbles, rubbing his fists into his eyes.

Onscreen, Netflix is playing a trailer for another show, but Derek hits the power button on the remote to shut the TV off. Picking up his cellphone, the bright light almost blinds them both as Derek checks the time.

“Late.”

“Ugh.” Stiles mashes his face into the space between the back of the couch and Derek’s leg. “I’m getting too old for this,” he complains. “I’m feel like an old man— gotta be in bed by nine or face the consequences.”

“And all at the ripe old age of twenty-five,” Derek jokes, shifting to give Stiles more room to faceplant into the cushions.

“You don’t understand.” Stiles looks up. “You and your youthful werewolf body will never know my pain. My knees creak now Der, they creak.” He buries his face again, and Derek only just catches his mumbled. “They tell me when it’s gonna rain.”

“It’s a useful skill,” Derek tells him, laughing when Stiles flips him off.  “Come on, it’s late. You can crash here.” He lets Stiles use the bathroom first, stacking their icecream bowls into the dishwasher while Stiles brushes his teeth.

“Did I leave any clothes here last time?” Stiles asks, sticking his head out of the bedroom door. Jeans don’t make for particularly comfortable pyjamas and it’s too cold to sleep in his boxers.

“Bottom drawer,” Derek calls back over his shoulder.

“Found them.”

Turning off the kitchen light, Derek heads to his bedroom. He’d spent the afternoon lounging around in his sweats so after brushing his teeth he goes straight to bed, climbing into the sheets and rolling over onto his side.

He’s comfortable and warm, drifting right on the precipice of sleep.

“Oh my god!” Stiles lurches upright on the bed, almost elbowing Derek in the gut with his flailing. “We are totally dating.” Even in the dark Derek can see his dumbfounded expression. “How could you not tell me we were dating?”

“Knew you’d figure it out eventually,” Derek mumbles, tangling his fingers in Stiles’ and pulling him back down.

Stiles goes willingly, shifting back so that he’s pressed against Derek’s chest.

“It’s just— all this time we could have been doing… I dunno, boyfriend stuff.”

“We were.”

“Other boyfriend stuff.” Stiles rolls in Derek’s arms so that he’s facing the werewolf. “Like, kissing boyfriend stuff.”

Derek’s laugh is a warm puff that ruffles Stiles’ hair. “We have so much time for ‘boyfriend stuff’” He presses his lips against Stiles’ temple. “In the morning.”

[hockeytrashgoblin]

Ice Cold ~Part 2

A/N: Hi baby beans! Part 2 coming in hot. Hope you enjoy!! :)

Seeing my pictures in the papers sparked two things, joy and frustration.

Joy because it was so cool to see a picture I took on the front of everyone's sports section. It felt like such an accomplishment. I was really proud of myself.

Frustration because someone had taken pictures of me and William walking around, igniting rumors. I kept my scarf over the bottom half of my face for the subway ride to work. I got there on time and started taking off all the winter layers. I hoped people would forget about that picture by this point, but I was wrong.

"Hey romantic walk in the falling snow." Amy teased me, not looking up from her computer in our office.

"God has everyone seen that?"

"Pretty much. It's been on the news for like a week almost." She clicked out of what she was doing and turned to me. "So tell me everything!"

"There's not really much to tell. We walked around and talked about hockey and our mutual distrust of the general public. He walked me to the subway and I went home."

"Oh come on there has to be some better details in there than that!"

"I mean he said that I was really interesting to him and that he wanted to know me?"

"Alright I guess that's something."

"Oh! Auston Matthews hates me I'm pretty sure!"

"What? Why? Bitch what on earth did you do to Auston Matthews?"

"Nothing! He was mad that William came over to talk to me and just glared the whole fucking time."

"That's weird."

"Right?! Then I could've sworn I saw him across the road when I was going down to the subway but he just disappeared. It was probably nothing but it was so creepy feeling."

"Yeah no I don't like that. Maybe stay away from Auston if you can?"

"I'm definitely going to try to do that."

"You'll have to start after today though."

"Ugh why?"

"A bunch of the leafs will be coming through the studio today. I don't know what it's for, the debrief is on the desk but it's not that helpful. Just says who will be there. Yes William will be too. Don't act like you weren't about to run over to check."

"Hey, I wasn't gonna run. Do I look like I run?" I said gesturing to my body.

"Not really. That's fine though cuz me neither. I like your outfit today though, it's cute! Peter would like." She said wiggling her eyebrows.

"Ew don't start." I looked down at myself. Nothing special or even revealing. Black high-waisted jeans with a baggy sweatshirt tucked into them and bright yellow cheetah printed shoes.

"Well he would." She said getting up and leading the way to the studio.

"Yeah I got that."

"He likes you."

"Got that too."

"You don't like him?"

"He sent me a selfie in his bathtub the other night."

"Was it a good one..?"

"No!" I said shocked that she'd even ask. The leafs were in the studio so I lowered my voice, embarrassed.

"Hey you never know."

"Amy. There is nothing sexy or cute about a grown man sitting in a dirty bathtub. Mix the fact that he had more hair on his chest than a fucking bear and you get a lot of no thanks."

"Yeah that sounds pretty fucked."

"He asked for some bath pictures back. I said no and he didn't listen so I'm not into that at all." I shrugged, handing her the camera. I was supposed to just be assisting with lighting today. The first half of the day went by pretty quickly. We had some craft services taking care of lunch which was nice. It was clear that the team had these kinds of cliques going on. I brought it up to Amy.

"I dunno what do you mean?"

"Like they just split so fast. William, Kasperi, Auston, Mitch, Morgan. And then like literally everyone else. I just thought it was strange."

"Oou here comes lover boy."

"Shut up." I said smacking her arm.

"Poor Peter never had a chance." I glared at her until she left and William walked up.

"Hi frowny."

"Hi."

"So bathtub pictures from Peter huh?" He said with the look of mischief in his eyes.

"Man you really do hear everything. Yes he sent me a picture of him in the tub."

"That's a little forward isn't it? Maybe I'm old fashioned but that seems aggressive."

"No it is aggressive. That's why it seems like it, because it absolutely is. It was gross. Then he was trying to pressure me which was also gross."

"He tried to pressure you?"

"Yeah to send a picture back to him. He didn't accept my first no. Or my third. Or even my 10th. I'm avoiding him."

"I don't blame you." He brushed his fingers across my shoulder. "I'd kill him if I were you."

"It doesn't matter. He's not the first and probably won't be the last."

"That's so awful."

"It's fine. I'll just avoid him."

"But what if you can't?"

"Then I'll deal with it as it comes. It's honestly fine William, I can deal with it." I said putting my hand around his bicep.

"I don't want you to have to though."

"It's alright William I promise. Besides he hasn't texted me since the media ran with that picture. I'm sorry about that by the way. I guess Auston was right to hate me."

"Auston doesn't hate you. It's just complicated that's all. It's nothing against you and everything against people. He doesn't like people either."

"I guess that's fair. Tell him not to look at me like he wants to rip my head off then. It's unnerving."

"Being unnerved by him probably isn't the worst thing in the world."

"Hey Willy, who's this?" Kasperi asked swinging his arm around William's shoulder. William rolled his eyes.

"Kappy she introduced herself at the beginning."

"Sorry I wasn't really paying very close attention. These things are usually kind of boring. No offense."

"None taken. I hate it when I'm on the other side of the camera. It's awful. I'm (y/n)." I said reaching my hand out to shake his extended one.

"Kasperi. It's nice to meet you. Hopefully we'll be seeing you around more." He said grinning at William before leaving.

"Asshole."

"What did he mean by that?"

"It's just been a long time since I was interested in anything except hockey. Me and Kas are roommates and he worries about me sometimes, that's all."

"Oh I see. He seems nice."

"He is! He's a really nice guy. My best friend."

"Well then I guess it's good he doesn't hate me too."

"Auston doesn't hate you."

"I don't believe you."

"Stubborn." He said smiling as he bumped his shoulder into mine.

"That's meeeee."

"Can I get your number? Or will you be stubborn on that too?"

"I dunno.." I said pretending go think about it making him laugh.

"I promise I won't send you pictures of me in the bathtub."

"Oh alright then sure." I took his phone and typed out my number in contacts. "Although I don't think I'd really mind one from you. You still wouldn't get one back though."

"I would never ask for one."

"You're a gentleman William."

"Hardly, but I try my best."

"What are you doing after this?"

"Um I didn't really have any big plans afterwards. I have plans right after I'm done here but I'm free about 30 minutes later. Why?"

"I was wondering if you maybe wanted to do something after. Like get a coffee or something maybe?"

"Why do you sound so unsure?"

"Because I am unsure?"

"But why?"

"I'd rather not go into all my insecurities right now at work."

"Alright I can respect that. We will talk about them later though, because they're silly and unnecessary in this situation."

"Are they?"

"Yes. Absolutely."

"Why?"

"I think you are the sweetest thing."

"William.."

"I mean it. You don't have anything to be nervous about. I'd love to get coffee with you after." He said with a warm smile.

"Okay." I said matching the smile.

The rest of the photoshoot went by pretty quickly. Whether that was because it was faster or because I was floating on cloud 9 that William didn't reject me. The boys left and I went back to the office with Amy after tearing down our little set.

"So, a date with William huh?"

"I don't know if it's a date really. It's just coffee."

"Oh come on you're blushing so hard! It's a date!"

"Shut up!"

"What did he say to you before that made you blush?"

"Man you notice everything." I mumbled.

"You could see it across the studio! Now what did he say!"

"He said he thought I was the sweetest thing and to not be so insecure around him because he thinks I'm interesting." I said blushing again thinking about it.

"This is such a date!"

"No. Now stop yelling."

"How? Tell me how this is not a date?"

"I don't know if he thinks of it as one that's all." I said shrugging.

"I do." William said making me jump.

"Holy fuck."

"At least if you wanted it to be of course."

"How long have you been standing here for?"

"Not long at all." He said with a smirk.

"Uuugh liar. You heard everything didn't you?"

"Perhaps." He said laughing as I groaned and slid down my chair. "Hello Amy, nice to see you again."

"Yeah you too Will. We're just about done here so you can take her away."

"I will do just that." He grabbed my coat off the hook and held it out. I tried to grab it but he pulled back. "Turn around."

"Uh okay.." I did as I was told and let him slip it over my shoulders. It was a strangely intimate moment. Amy broke it with a cough hiding her laugh although not very well. I kicked my shoes off and put my boots on.

"Bye (y/n) see you this weekend!"

"Yeah see you."

"Bye Amy."

"Bye Will."

We walked out of the building pretty quietly except me saying thank you to him opening doors for me. We started towards the closest Tim Horton's.

"So you didn't want this to be a date?" He asked.

"What? No of course I wanted it to be!" I blushed really hard at that one. "Uh I mean.."

"I was under the assumption that it was one but after overhearing your conversation I wasn't sure."

"No one likes an eavesdropper William." I teased elbowing him in the side. "I just didn't know if you'd want it to be."

"I told you you didn't have to be so unsure. I think you're lovely. I should be so lucky to have you want to go on a date with me."

"I think you've definitely got that backwards. I'm the lucky one."

"We could argue that all day and with how stubborn you are I'm sure you would, but I'd rather not."

"Sorry."

"Don't be. Nothing to be sorry about." 

"I am pretty stubborn. It's not cute." I said laughing.

"I have a hard time believing there's anything about you that isn't cute." He said opening the door for me. 

I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding once inside the warm store. William led me to the back of the store to sit. He pulled out my chair for me. I blushed again of course.

"What would you like to drink?"

"What no William I'm paying."

"I hardly think so. Tell me what you want stubborn girl."

"A small candycane hot chocolate."

"Alright. See was that so hard?"

"Don't get all grin-y and triumphant. I only gave in because you weren't going to budge."

"That's all it takes?" He asked laughing, walking away to order. He came back a minute later with drinks. "Careful it's hot."

"Thank you but you really didn't have to pay. I invited you. I feel bad."

"Don't feel bad. I have money to spare."

"It's not the money, it's the principle of it."

"I don't believe that women should pay for a first date. Or any date for that matter."

"How come? Most guys don't want to pay."

"I'm a little old fashioned, as I said the other night."

"It's like you're from a completely different time."

"Maybe I am." He said raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah maybe. You're definitely sweeter than any guy I've ever met."

"That's very nice of you to say since people say I'm heartless."

"I have a hard time believing that."

"You haven't seen me in a light that would make you believe it."

"I really don't think I would think that anyway. Even after seeing you in a light that doesn't make you look that great."

"I hope you never see me that way so we don't have to find out."

"We probably won't. I can't see you ever doing anything really bad."

"I love your faith in me. It's sweet."

"You're sweet."

"Thank you." He murmured with warm eyes.

"Um you're welcome." 

"Why are you blushing?"

"Sorry, you just do this thing and it makes me feel weird."

"I'm sorry."

"No don't be, it's a good weird. I just forget everything I'm thinking. Like my brain goes dumb or something."

"And that's a good thing?" He asked skeptically.

"Well I mean maybe not the dumb brain part but it feels good. Warm." It was almost like I forgot I was speaking out loud. I looked into his eyes and got embarrassed. "Sorry that was weird to say and probably too much, I'm so sorr-"

"Hey shh." He said putting his hand over mine. "You're fine."

"I'm just worried I'm gonna be weird and it'll be too much."

"You aren't too much. Do you want to go walk around a bit?"

"Sure I'd like that."

We walked out of the Tim Horton's and started down the road. It was really cold with the wind whipping around the buildings off the lake.

"I don't know how you're not freezing right now."

"I spend my life on ice. I'm used to the cold."

"But the wind is so awful. You don't deal with that on the ice."

"That is true. You really caught me there." He mumbled.

"It must just be cuz you're a boy. Boys never get cold."

"That could be, darling. Now tell me why you were so unsure asking me to hangout."

"So you didn't forget about that huh?"

"Pfft hardly. Tell me."

"It's going to sound so stupid to you I bet."

"Try me."

"I've just had a lot of really bad experiences with dating. I'm not usually the kind of person people want to date. They all think I'm only good for one thing if you know what I mean."

"You thought I was just messing with your feelings?"

"I dunno. You could be. You're way out of my league, you could've just felt bad for me and are being nice."

"That's so ridiculous (y/n).. I would never ever do that to you. I don't feel bad for you at all. Well maybe that you had to see a picture of Peter in a dirty bathtub." He said with a wink making me laugh.

"God it was so awful Will. I haaated it."

"Well it sounds like you had every reason to."

"That's also why I was feeling kind of bad today.. he just kind of solidified that I'm only good for sex and that isn't the kind of person I want to be."

"That is absolutely not what kind of person you are. You never have to be that person again." He said staring at me intently. I half hoped he meant that he was going to be sticking around for a long time but the insecurity in me shut that thought down.

"I have so much more to offer, ya know?"

"I don't know but I look forward to learning everything else you have to offer." He said slipping his hand into mine and intertwining our fingers. I smiled and looked up to meet his kind eyes. "If you'll permit me of course."

"I'm starting to think that all the walls I have built up are going to crumble with you."

"Good. I want that. Eventually all my guarded walls will come down too I believe. You seem to have that effect on people. I mean just look how comfortable Peter is!" He joked as I groaned loudly, making him light up with laughter. It really made me happy that I could cause that reaction.

[a-real-ackerman]

Perfect Scenario

Sherlock Fanfic

summary: You, a super human, an excellent actor and a liar with debatable ethics; are having a hard time overcoming feelings  no one new you were capable of. On top of it, you have to deal with your “arch enemy” who has dedicated himself on the way of ruining your chances at your new life.

pairing: Sherlock x superhuman!Reader 

warnings: Mentions of abuse, mentions of suicide, violence, language and horrible mistakes... I dunno, I will write a current warning in red on every chapter.

A/N: Even tho I think Sherlock as an asexual character or not interested etc, I find working with well-known characters and less OC’s quite useful. Also, I see a lot of me in him so I will be writing about him more. Also, the reader is female. Also, gifs are never mine, all credits for those talented people. By the way, in case you see my mistakes don’t be shy, let me know! I am trying to improve my English.

Chapter One: “Trembling Hands.”

      “You don’t know who you are, unlike me.” was written on the card  you  recently received. Menacing words written in an elegant handwriting, appeared by your window, every morning since last Friday. there you stood by your counter, your e/c eyes wandering over the same simple words again and again, in a hopeless struggle to find any clues. You did not know what they wanted or cared about; what part of you they assumed they knew? Your super powers? Your business? Your therapist? Your past? Your parents’ death? All the lies you have been telling whole the time? 

      What you could analyse from each of these notes were the fact that they actually new about you. The words they choose were written in a friendly manner which told you that even tho you have never met them, they knew enough to consider themselves close to you. 

      You had a few assumptions on who they could be:

A secret admirer, in a sense, stalker

A conspiracy theorist who have witnessed your... condition?

One of the investigator who had researched you in your teens

Jimmy

     No matter which one they were,(more likely to be a he), he was a stalker. You did not like stalkers. But you were interested in this one’s motive. You wanted to beat their game before they could put their filthy obsessive hands on your very new and clean life.

     Hopping off the counter, you rushed into the living room and put the card on the brown coffee stand in the middle of the room, right next to others. Walking trough cold blue walls of you flat, you kept mentally checking the places you usually control, in case there were cameras. You were going to take a shower after all.

          “I have to ask him first,” said the man on the line, Holmes’ face shot a fake kind smile as he was face to face with the doctor. “ tell my brother I said hi.”

         Doctor threw a look at the phone in disbelief as Holmes hang up the phone. Sherlock was not in his mood for a new case. Especially not a case from his brother, which involves scammers, government, some mafia and a class action lawsuit that could bring them a big amount of money. The detective was too busy in his mind palace.

        John entered the flat and found his flatmate already waiting for him, sat on his chair with hands in praying position, eyes boring into him like he’s trying to ask something.

       Uncomfortable under the gaze, “Yes, Sherlock ask away.” sighed John.

       “John,” said Sherlock, “I have a suggestion.”

        John looked at him in suspicion, his eyes narrowing.

        “How about going out to see a play tonight?”

         John exhaled out of surprise to his friend’s suggestion, was he asking him on a date? For a case (of course)? 

          “Don’t worry John, about whatever you thought of-I don’t’ prefer to vocalise it. I think we may have a new case, which includes the leading actor. She seems to play a big part in this case as much as the play. I also want to witness myself if she was as good as they talked about.”

         “It’s okay, Sherlock, just for once.”

         Sherlock baffled,” What do you mean by ‘just once’? This is a case just like the others, you don’t want to solve cases anymore?”

         “No,” insisted John, “All I’m saying is: it’s okay to be a human just for once.It’s okay to take interest in a play, film or a person-”

         “-I AM NOT INTERESTED,JOHN,”

         It was too late to deny, John was already going upstairs, with a smug smirk of a self-proud mother who has just embarrassed their teenager.

         You have once again saluted the audience, holding hands with your teammates. A little stronger than usual maybe, you didn’t want to throw the decors and people off the stage. Your hands were trembling more since you couldn’t stop the seconds passing; and your head got dizzier every movement, with the help of flashing stage lights. Mavis, your co-actor since high school, leaned over your ear; “You always get so excited when it ends!” she whispered without knowing anything.

       You shot your perfect, warmest smile as your eyes wandered around the place in case anyone was suspicious. You locked your eyes with an awfully familiar man around your age, with curly hair falling on his forehead and eyes piercing onto you. He knew, he knew something and made it clear. He knew you.

”There she is,” you saw him whispering to his friend. You could listen to them is you focused enough, thanks to not being so human.

         But you choose to not hear anything.Thanks to your instincts being quite active this afternoon, every word had felt no different than a knife stabbing her ears. All of this pain was because you couldn’t use your power today. You were a bomb waiting to explode, your hands itching to throw people to the walls and your screams desired to ruin every window in the city. 

     The torture soon ends, but always leaves you shaken up. You turned from the left corner of the entrance of the theatre and entered the cafe where you have tea every night after performance. You didn’t die to drink it every night actually, yet the calming mix thing of this cafe could put an angry elephant down. Naturally, you could calm down too. It eased your nerves and relaxed your muscles which helped you overcoming your power. I you didn’t bother to control your powers, let’s say, no one nearby could survive.

    Whatever, you took your usual seat and smiled at the kind young waiter. You knew each other now, so you didn’t have to talk.(dreamy isn’t it? not having to talk?) You looked out of the window, watching the shiny cars passing by and colourful lights dancing. You slowly turned to the man who just sat in front of you, his arms crossed on the table and eyes gazing you in a weird expression between curious and astonished. Admiring and contemptuous. Familiar and hateful. Friendly and strange.

    “I have to say I am totally astonished by your acting,” he started. You were right about astonished. You smiled firmly, just because this one was choosing his words firmly. If he is one of those creeps you would send him off. But you had to be careful these days, anyone could lead you to the stalker.

    “You come here often.”

    “Yes, it’s not new. Everyone who has taken interest in stalking me knows.”

     He let out a chuckle which you didn’t expect to be this natural.”Sorry if I made you uncomfortable. Ironic, since I have come to apologise for making you uncomfortable.”

    His gaze took a lovely, apologising, soft form, which could melt your heart if you didn’t realise him checking for your expressions in between seconds. He was trying to impress you, for what?

    “It’s not very comforting of you when you follow me to a cafe.”

    “So it did,” he said, paying too much attention on your hands while you reached out to your tea.

    “Is he bothering you miss?” asked the waiter protectively, his voice a few octave deeper than usual.

    “I am fine, thank you Oscar.” you watched him walking away with a nod.”So what did what?”

    “Me. Looking at you. You noticed me in hundreds of people. You saw us talking about you.”

    “Please don’t start with that ‘love-at-first-sight-soulmate’ shit.” 

    “I was actually going to start with ‘you-somehow-know-you-are-in-danger’ shit.”

     Your mouth dropped with his super sassy mic drop. You had to be clueless, oblivious and self centred now. You were a normal person now.

     “Is this a threat? I am amused.” you smirked, don’t let them him the fear.

     “No,” he rolled his eyes, “This is an offer.”

      “I am Sherlock Holmes.”

      “OH!” you relaxed, “I know you, (y/n)(s/n).” you answered shaking his hand.

"Come on, drink it. You seem to be dying for it."

   You reached to the cuppa, not being able to hide your hands. As soon as this herbal smell filled your nose and followed it's way to your heart, a soft needy smile appeared on your lips. You felt your muscles getting back to normal.You opened your eyes.

"Now look," you threatened suddenly," if you are here to investigate my parents' death and sue me for it..."

He was more focused now, his gaze melted down to a more intense, even a curious one.

"I am tired. I am tired of this. For all my teenage years, my past, people defined me as a liar. So keep going, keep evoking my traumas. You won’t find what you’re looking for."

"There is a huge misunderstanding, "

He comforted you, leaning more onto the table, you almost loved this caring facade, a pair of eyes; signing no danger, no threat but just a simple caring feeling, were more than enough to let your guard down and believing someone. Just this once.

"I don't want to sue you. I offer you my help. Someone has opened your case again."

This was too much for you, with all energy trapped in your body your heart started to ache, your hands trembling in a way no one could stop.

"Trembling hands."

"What?"

"Show them."

You obeyed, held them up in front of him.

"I thought tea would help you."

"It does. When no one triggers me."

"Everything could trigger you. You live alone in the house your very own parents committed suicide. You don't even have pets which is surprising because you love animals, judging by a different cat and dog fur on your pants, coat, jumper, pretty much everywhere. You also have been avoiding your therapist, judging by the notification sound that you didn't answer after seeing the name. And no, it can not be your lover because you are alone live alone and have no attempt on your physical self-care, in addition, the cafe you go nearly every day or your friend group doesn't look for someone else after you arrive on your own. But those are not clear assumptions, knowing what your parents like is enough to assume you prefer to be single. You are alone for a reason. You think you’re dangerous.

So you live alone, have no one, and Scotland Yard is investigating you. You get stalked and for a reason, you always stay sharp and have a very defensive observant personality.

You are interesting enough for me. I will take your case."

"Is this a nerd way of asking for my number? If it is I will say yes."

"No, it's better, it is a smart way to interest you."

" What for? Why will you help me?"

" Because there is a game waiting for me,” he sighed, “and I am bored."

"Fine, this is my number here-"

"I already have it!"

Then he rushed out, putting his collars up, ruffling his hair.

A/N: I want to thank @fanfictionislovefanfictioni-blog​ for the request! 

[joi-in-the-tardis]

I’ve been trying to pin down some of my frustration these last couple of weeks.  Of course, some of it has to do with the deaths that have happened in my close circle this year.  That can’t be understated.  And, even the things that are also causing frustration are born out of, or exacerbated, by those losses.

The symptoms of my internal frustration aren’t as easy to see on the outside, I think.  I still try to at least portray patience and kindness even when I’m not feeling them on the inside.  Because that’s who I am; that’s who I want to be.  So, if people know what’s going on internally it’s either because they know me very, very well and they can read me or, more likely, I’ve expressed it verbally.  For instance, I’ll have an acquaintance from work approach me to talk about something fandom related and I will carry on a perfectly cordial conversation.  They walk away and I drop all pretenses and go back to neutral face.  I’m exhausted from the effort.  I may love the subject matter.  I may be fond of the person.  The problem is that I don’t have the emotional spoons.  I have just enough to get myself out of bed, do my job, interact with the people I have to interact with, come home, make a food, maybe hop on the treadmill, and then go to bed and start it all over.  

What gives?

(The rest under the cut because wowsers this got long.)

Ironically, I think I’m lonely.  I haven’t the foggiest idea where in my life I would fit another whole close relationship.  I’m very introverted which means I need quite a lot of time to myself.  My job takes up much of the leftover time.  The hours I keep for said job mean that either people have to schedule around me or I have to twist my life in to pretzels to make time for people (well, if we’re hanging out on Saturday that means I need to go to work, come home and take a nap directly, shower... oh, and I need two weeks notice so I can ask off for Sunday because otherwise I have to be at work by 5am).  I can deviate from my normal life schedule, if I really want to, maybe once a week.  But, I need my sleep.  I’m having a hard enough time being as social as I need to be for my job... a lack of sleep makes me a bear.  I’m not really great at maintaining my close friendships because I’ll go weeks without seeing people at all.  We might text, usually if the other person sends a message.  We might poke each other on social media.  It’s not that I don’t think about them... It’s just that I’m so focused on maintaining myself in the moment that everything else kinda slips away.  And by the time I realize “hey maybe I should shoot them a message” it feels like it’s been too long and I’m embarrassed and guilty.

I’m happiest at home, alone.  My couple of hours with my coffee and my social media time before work are near-sacred.  I get to work and immediately things start wearing on me.  It’s easy to say “just get a new job” here.  Believe me, I think about it.  But when I got this job... they were the only company to call me back in a year of looking.  I have full time employment with decent benefits.  I have yet to have a supervisor who didn’t appreciate (and take advantage of) my work ethic.  On this small little hill I am King and I have a Great Reputation.  The idea of starting over or of having less than I have now is terrifying.  It feels irresponsible to leave a position that allows me to live a comfortable life outside of work.  Even if the work itself drives me batty.  It would also be easy enough to step up in to a supervisory role, get more pay, and move up in the company.  That is largely unappealing to me, though.  In part because I don’t like being in charge (I’m more of a second in command) and in part because this company makes supervisory roles impossible to do right.  As a perfectionist, I think this would eat at me until I collapsed in on myself.

I do have fantasies about quitting and moving away.  Starting somewhere else fresh, you know?  Then I feel incredibly guilty because I have family here.  Not blood, but found.  I have a network of people who care about me- really to know me is apparently to love me and I say that with continued shock, not ego- and I love them to pieces. 

Like I said, though, I think in large part I’m lonely.  I’ve lived on my own for 7 years now.  I’ve come home alone, I’ve slept alone, I’ve lived my life for myself.  I’ve joked many times in the last 7 years that I’m not sure I could be domesticated.  I’m used to having things the way I want them, when I want them, how I want them.  I’m incredibly independent and stubborn, almost to the determent of myself.  I think I’ve reached a point, though, where I really wish there was someone else.  It’s been coming for a long while.  In waves, with hills and valleys.  A lot of the time I’m still super grateful that I get so much time alone to recharge.  But, increasingly, I wish there was someone to help me with that.  Or, even more, to gently push me to be better.  It’s far too easy to come home alone and waste away my days when I’m sad.  Oh, I try.  For instance, I’ll be at work thinking I just want to go home and have a drink on the sofa.  When I do get home I tell myself I can do that, absolutely, after an hour on the treadmill.  Usually after that hour I’m too tired to properly enjoy the drink.  And so it goes.

I’m not saying I need someone to come along and tell me how to take care of myself.  And I hesitate to say I need someone to take care of myself for because I should be able to do it for myself.  But, I think it would help on my more exhausted days to have my own cheering section, you know?  As much as I’ve worked on myself- chipping away all of the things that aren’t me to get down to what is and polishing that to show it to the world without shame- I want someone to want this me that I’ve worked so hard on.  I think the continued work would be a bit easier, a bit lighter, if there was someone who wanted it, too.

I mean, I like me.  I think I’m fun, funny, sensitive, inquisitive, intelligent, creative, caring, delightfully scattered, intense... But, I also have to live with my downsides and sometimes they’re all I see.  I can be pretty unfriendly in my own head and a lot of that unfriendliness is targeted at myself.  When I do mentally lash out at other people, it’s really more about me than the other person.

It would be nice to have someone pull me out of my own head.  Pull me out of my very scheduled, regimented life.  Haul me off and make me live in the world, even if it’s only for the afternoon.  Bring some spark and spontaneity that I’m not prone to indulging in on my own.  Life should be more than sleep, coffee, work, sleep... you know?

And that’s the crux of it, I think.  I want to be wanted.  I want to be worth it to someone.  I want someone to want me to belong to them.  I want to come home and have someone be here for me.  Respectful of my need for space, of course, and ready to love me where I am, but also ready to push me to be better or more rounded.

I want to love someone and have them love me back.  I’ve never had that, not once.  A couple false starts, that’s what I’ve got.  Chests and trunks and barrels full of feelings for lots of people- both in my life still and long gone- that’s what I have.  I give and give and love with everything I’ve got... It’s like that’s what I was built to do... There are heaps of people in my life who care about and love me, and for that I am incredibly grateful.  But, there’s no one that’s just for me.  The message that I get is that I’m a fine friend.  I’m great for sometimes.  I’m not someone for always.  Maybe these are unfair assumptions.  Hell maybe there’s a long line of people from my past who have dropped hints and I just haven’t noticed.  

Admittedly, when it comes to romance I’m a complete dunce.  I don’t pick up on hints.  I don’t drop good hints, myself.  I tend to hold my crushes for years before mentioning anything.  When hints fail, I tend to pour my heart out all at once... Which, I know is overwhelming for the other party.  And, every time I do that I realize I’m way ahead of them in regards to feelings.  INFJs are future thinkers.  I’m not thinking about dating; I’m thinking how our lives would mesh.  I’m already thinking about making their coffee the way they like in the morning.  Already trying to figure out if our pets would get along.  I’m making dinners in the evenings and elaborate breakfasts on our days off.  We’re spending evenings curled up on the sofa together, either enjoying something together or pursing our own interests in the same space, and holidays in far-off places, adventuring and learning new things.  I’m already squishy and domesticated before the start.  It’s hard to even consider catching up with that, I know.  And no one has done it.  No one has wanted to try.

It’s incredibly difficult for me to drop my barriers around people.  Even people I’ve been comfortable with for years.  I’m incredibly touch-sensitive and have trust issues in that realm.  Years of these barriers have done nothing but starve me, though.  I’m actually a big physical touch person despite this sensitivity.  I’ve just learned to deal without... Anyone who was willing to try with me would have to go slow and easy with me.  But once I drop those barriers?  They’re just gone.  I kinda become a human barnacle. There really is no way to prepare people for that shift.

I dunno.  I think a lot of my frustration stems out of this... neediness.  I’m constantly telling myself that it’s not stupid.  It’s perfectly natural.  We’re a social species.  We’re built for connections.  Many of us are built for close, romantic relationships.  We’re built for a certain level of physical intimacy.  It’s just a bit difficult not to feel angry that I’m built for it, I crave it, but I can’t seem to obtain it.

So... Hi everyone, my name is Joi and I’m romantically/intimately frustrated...

[shamelessly4shameless-blog]

Nickovich pt. 10

Ian is laying on his back, an ashtray on his belly, the love of his life sprawled inelegantly across his chest and the bed is littered with condom wrappers, a now tangled string of beads, and various other items denoting a good time had by all.

He feels completely at peace with the world and exquisitely spent. He hasn’t felt like this in so long … Ian impulsively kisses the top of Mickey’s head, burying his nose in the dark mass of his hair and breathing deeply.

“Mick?”

“Mmm?”

Mickey inhales deeply and stretches, his thigh rolling over Ian’s with a boneless grace that momentarily erases all thoughts from Ian’s mind. Smiling, he runs his knuckles lightly down Mickey’s side and gathers his thoughts together again

“Who was that woman with you?”

“What?”

Mickey opens his eyes, a half-smile on his lips as he comes fully awake and the events of the last few hours trickle back into his consciousness.

“The woman you were with earlier. The one with all the hair and …”

“Fuck!”

Mickey shoots upright and rolls off the bed, grabbing for his pants, tranquillity short lived. Ian reacts too, tugging on his shirt hurriedly, though he’s not sure what they’re reacting about.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“I forgot her blanket and soap and … shit. Pillows? I don’t even remember. We got a spare blanket in here? What time is it?”

“Kinda late, you were asleep for a couple hours.”

“Aww fuck! Okay change of plan. Take my keys and go get her.”

“She’s here?”

Ian is trying to follow the new course their evening has taken and lands on the assumptions that he is now expected to go and collect a random woman from somewhere and also that Mickey is about to rob the hotel room. This suspicion is confirmed when a small pile of things forms on the chair by the door and Mickey begins bundling it up.

“Yeah, she’s in the van. Come on, man. I can’t walk in and out with cameras and nosey fucks all over the place.”

“You just planning to walk out the front door with all this or …?”

“Maybe, no, I dunno … She’s been waiting hours out there. Can you get her already?”

Mickey runs a hand impatiently through his hair and Ian feels a small stab of jealousy realising that the only person he has really seen Mickey have this sort of concern for in the past is himself.

“Okay,”

Ian catches Mickey’s wrist, pulling him close and framing his face between steady hands.

“First things first. Who is she?”

“Her names Nicky, she’s a jailbird on the run and she’s been stayin’ in my van.”

“You let her stay with you?”

Ian raises his eyebrows in surprise and the knot of jealousy tightens despite his best efforts to smooth it away.

“Yeah I did. Don’t fuckin’ ask me why, bitch is crazy ...”

Ian’s face softens and his lip quirks upwards

“You made a friend!”

“Fuck off. She’s just … I dunno, man … a person I don’t hate.”

Mickey twitches his nose and looks away as Ian smiles broadens outwards, reaching all the way to his eyes. He never really thought about it but to the best of his knowledge, Mickey has never actually had a friend before. He had his siblings, and he had Ian, but that’s about it.

“Alright. Give me the keys. You said her names Nicky, right?”

“Yeah.”

Mickey hands over the keys to his van a little shyly

“Thank you.”

“Not a problem. We’ll be right up.”

He kisses Mickey on the mouth in parting, it feels a little strange but in a good way and Ian guesses that if Mickey is going to be back in his life, this is something he needs to get used to again, things being strange in a good way.

*

Ian steps lightly out of the hotel, the lady behind reception didn’t even look up from her phone as he went by, a roll of blanket and pillows under one arm. The air outside is really cold and he jogs across to the rust coloured van, puffs of his breath briefly visible before spreading out into the atmosphere and disappearing.

He fumbles with the keys but before he can get to the right one, the van door swings open and he is confronted with a clearly pissed off ball of hair and eyeliner.

“Where the f … Oh. Hey Ian.”

She looks him up and down and Ian gets the impression she is not overly thrilled by what she sees.

“Er … Hi. Nicky right?”

“That’s right. You boys been playing nice?”

“Nice enough.”

Ian grins at her and Nicky nods, an answering smile beginning but not quite forming.  

“So where’s Abe?”

“You mean Mickey?”

“I prefer Abe. Liberator of mouth whores and junkie cons, right?”

“Ah … Yeah okay.”

It’s weird but every word she speaks seems to have a core of humour about it, like the world is one big messed up joke that she is well and truly in on. It sort of feels like she is making fun of him but Ian can’t put his finger on why and the way she does it is not offensive. Ian can see why Mickey likes her.

“He’s inside, told me to bring you these, but also invite you up so you can shower or whatever.”

Nicky cocks her head to the side and sweeps her tongue lightly along her lower lip appraising Ian.

“That’s sweet. Did you guys order pizza yet?”

Nicky gives him a small smile and takes the stolen goods, chucks them in the van and hops down to stand beside Ian.

“No. Do you want pizza?”

“God, Yes! And you should suck up to me, I’m like … ah … you know if you go out with someone and they got a kid, and you suck up to the kid so your date will think you’re a good person and maybe invite you to stay the night? I’m Abe’s kid.”

Nicky skips a little to keep up with Ian’s long legs and he smirks at her

“Does Mickey know that?”

“Of course not!”

Nicky scoffs but beams up at him mischievously

“But how many of his friends would he kick you out of bed to go give blankets to, huh?”

Ian hadn’t thought of it like that, but it’s a very good point. Pizza it is.

“Did you tell him his hair looks nice? I cut it for him.”

“He let you cut his hair?”

“Yeah, once I pumped him full of unicorn coffee”

“What?”

“Ah, don’t worry about it, private joke.”

Ian fucking hates private jokes.

*

Nicky enters the hotel room with her arms flung wide and makes a beeline straight for Mickey who is sat on the bed smoking.

“Jesus! Look at that sexed up smile! You put out on the first date didn’t you? Such a slut.”

Ian blinks in surprise at the easy way Nicky ruffles Mickey’s dark hair and pats his cheek. Mickey waves her away with an irritable scowl but that’s all he does and he doesn’t seem to mind her touching him. Ian scrolls through his phone for pizza places, deliberately averting his eyes. He is definitely jealous but really doesn’t want to be.

“What kind of pizza do you like, Nicky?”

“Anything with a ton of cheese, please Lover Boy.”

Ian gives her a side-long look at the form of address and Nicky meets it without hesitation.  

“Mick? Any preference?”

“Meat. Peppers. No fuckin’ mushrooms.”

“So is the shower everything I dreamed of?”

Nicky asks Mickey as Ian dials the restaurant

“How the fuck should I know? Go in there and look.”

Mickey nods toward the bathroom and Nicky rolls her eyes as she meanders over. She pokes her head around the bathroom door and sighs contentedly.

“Oh my God. There’s an actual fuckin’ tub. Abe, baby, I know you want me to have all the good things in life...”

“Knock yourself out.”

Mickey nods and lays back on the bed, cracking open a beer.

“Bring me one of those in?”

Nicky asks, already tugging her boots off.

“What? Fuck you, I’m not your damn maid.”

Mickey grunts but puts a can to one side for her and Ian, watching the exchange, is pretty damn sure Mickey is about to comply. What the actual fuck.

Ian manages to order two pizzas and some sides but his focus is on that damn can of beer. Mickey is flicking through TV channels and sipping his own drink but when the water shuts off in the bathroom he glances at the closed door, sets his drink aside and … Ian can’t fucking believe it … Mickey gets off the bed and pads barefoot to the bathroom door and takes Nicky the can of beer she requested.

Ian mumbles a thanks and hangs up. He hears a muttered exchange of good natured insults and then Mickey is closing the bathroom door, smiling. Actually smiling a proper damn smile for someone who is not Ian.

Ian crosses the room in three steps and grabs the front of Mickey’s shirt, fitting his lips over his lovers with a possessive urgency. Mickey freezes for a second and then responds just as hungrily and the building panic in Ian’s chest starts to subside.

“I want you.”

His voice is low and deep and Mickey arches one eyebrows

“We kinda have company at the moment.”

“Then you better keep quiet.”

Mickey’s vague social graces are no match for that intense green eyed stare and he finds himself unbuttoning his jeans and pushing them over his hips before his brain has caught up and made a decision.

Ian’s hands are rough, urgent and hard. It is exactly how Mickey likes it but also a bit of a surprise and he glances over is shoulder at Ian

“What’s got you riled up?”

“Nothing.”

Ian eases himself into Mickey with a grunt and Mickey takes a fistful of bedding, breathing strongly through his nose as his body acclimatises. He knows the rhythms of Ian’s dominance well, probably better than Ian himself in some ways and this is definitely a little out of character given how rough things got already. Mickey bites his lip as Ian finds a place inside him that sends stars skittering across his vision. A whimper escapes his lips and Mickey glances back at Ian again.

The redhead is all jutting chin and burning eyes and he’s absolutely fucking beautiful but there is something … Nicky’s singing reaches them from the bathroom and Ian’s face contorts in a scowl as he rams Mickey harder.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Ian!”

“What?”

“You’re jealousy banging me!”

“No I’m ...”

“Yes you are. Get the fuck off!”

“Mick ...”

“Now, asshole. Off!”

Mickey thrusts his hips forward, dislodging Ian who obligingly pulls back and looks sheepishly up at his lover beneath lowered lashes.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Mickey buttons his pants and folds his arms across his chest irritably. He was probably about thirty seconds away from a pretty decent orgasm but that’s besides the point.

“Sorry. I just wanted to … claim you I guess.”

“Oh yeah, I fuckin’ got that. Why?”

“Because … you took Nicky a beer.”

The moment the words are out of his mouth, Ian realises how ridiculous he sounds and colour floods his face. He averts his eyes wishing that the ground would just open up and swallow him. Mickey thumbs his lip and tries to suppress a smile.

“You worried you’re not the only fucker who’s got me whipped anymore?”

Ian snaps his gaze up immediately and opens his mouth to protest but Mickey is openly grinning at him now and Ian grimaces, laughing at himself.

“No. Yes. I don’t even know.”

Ian sighs and draws Mickey close, resting his chin lightly on Mickey’s head.

“I’m pissed off that someone else has been there for you. Not pissed at you or her, just at myself. I should have been the one neatening your hair and bringing you coffee.”

Mickey squeezes him tightly and tries to think of something comforting to say

“I wish it had been you. The coffee was from some stupid unicorn place, man.”

“Cool!”

“No, not fuckin’ cool.”

“Bet you secretly loved it. All glittery and ...”

“How’d you know it was glittery?”

Mickey looks up at Ian and quirks his eyebrows accusingly. Ian’s blush intensifies and Mickey shakes his head in disbelief

“You fuckin’ go there don’t you? I’m away for less than two years and you start takin’ your coffee with a shot of fuckin’ glitter. God damn fairy.”

“Fuck off.”

Ian laughs, shoving Mickey’s shoulder, playfully. Mickey feigns a punch and Ian tackles him backwards onto the bed, kissing his neck before pulling back to gaze down at him wonderingly.

“What the fuck you lookin’ at now?”

“Just wondering how I survived without you.”

Mickey’s eyes soften and his fingers come up to trace the strong bridge of Ian’s nose and round to cup his cheek.

“Me too, man. Me too.”

*

Nicky towels off and sighs contentedly. Life is, she thinks, a giant jumble of fucked up surprises. How the Hell has she managed to end up here? Acting as a sort of umpire in a love triangle where the least likely candidate is the one she’s rooting for.

She grabs one of the two hotel issue toothbrushes still in it’s little plastic wrapper and goes to town on her teeth. It’s almost orgasmic after days of using her finger to try and clean them, the bristles are cheap and shitty but Nicky closes her eyes and rounds her shoulders in pleasure.

As she gets dressed again hears a series of sounds that are definitely the early beginnings of two men fucking and with an amused sigh, sits herself down on the lidded toilet to wait it out.

Six feet of red hair and premium European bone structure is enough to get anyone mixed up but you add some hardcore devotion to that cocktail … Nicky folds her arms and tries not to listen to the happy grunts and gasps coming from the bedroom. It’s going to get really fucking messy if Ian decides to bail.

Nicky knows his type. Excitable and full of ideals but when it comes to the big moment  …  He’ll get so far and then he’ll bail. And realistically that is fair enough! We all have our own demons, our own agendas and dreams to try and balance out with what others need from us. But “realistically” isn’t going to stop it hurting Mickey any less and though she hasn’t known him long, the thought of him being hurt really fucking pisses Nicky off.

The other room falls silent and then Nicky can hear the sounds of the men dressing. She gives it another minute and then makes a show of getting ready to exit the bathroom. By the time she opens the door Ian is fully dressed and picking up his car keys

“I’m just going to pick up the pizza”

“Cool, I’ll come with ya. Let Abe recover from his ass pounding in peace.”

Nicky grins

“Go fuck yourself.”

Mickey calls cheerfully, not looking up from the TV.

“Hey man, what happens in the ass, stays in the ass!”

Nicky calls back and glimpses a ‘C’ and ‘-’ raised toward her as she and Ian leave the room.

*

As they drive, Ian wonders whether he should thank Nicky for looking out for Mick. He’s just trying to form a good way of saying it when Nicky rolls her head across the headrest and says

“Tell me, while it’s just us guys, you gonna go with him? To Mexico?”

Ian keeps his eyes on the road and Nicky wonders if he is just going to ignore her but after a minute he shakes his head.

“I don’t know yet.”

His eyes flicking away from the road and then back again.

“I can appreciate it’s a big choice. Difficulty is, Ian, he’s on a very limited time span and every day he hangs around here waiting for you to make up your mind, the more likely it is that he gets caught and dragged back to prison.”

Ian hedges his bets and says

“I don’t know what you’re ...”

“Yeah. Okay, I know but Mikhailo Alexandre Milkovich is all over the TV around here. I’ve seen him on three news channels in two days and I’ve only gone in a handful of places.”

Nicky holds up her fingers in illustration and then leans forward and clasping a hand on his forarm, looking up at Ian intently.

“He’s taking risks because he loves you. If you don’t wanna go, that’s fine, but you gotta hurry up and tell him so he can get out. You owe him that much.”

Ian swallows heavily and exhales a sharp breath through his nose.

“You don’t like me, huh?”

“Honestly, I don’t know you and I’m not judging you though I appreciate it sounds like I am. I just don’t want to see a sweet kid serving life because he waited too long for a guy who couldn’t decide.”

It’s been a few years since someone put Ian so firmly in his place. Since he started arguing back with Fiona and stopped taking shit from Lip really. Mickey would lose his temper but he never really scolded, just huffed and puffed and let Ian blow his house down to make up for whatever had caused the offence.

For a little while he’s genuinely pissed off about it but the more he thinks about it he realises that he can’t actually talk to any one else about this choice and whether she wants to help him or not, Nicky is here and she seems willing to listen. Once they have the pizza in the car and are driving back, Ian decides to ask the question that he feels suddenly desperate to ask.

“What would you do if you were me?”

Nicky sucks her teeth thoughtfully and drums her fingers on the box lid.

“Well if you love him...”

“I do.”

Ian answers immediately

“Well then you have one seriously good reason to go with him. But you got a life here too, right?”

Ian nods and Nicky shrugs her shoulders

“Is it a good life? Does it make you happy? Do you feel fulfilled?”

“Mostly. I guess.”

“Is it worth breaking your heart to keep it?”

She asks softly, almost gently and Ian has no idea how to answer.

“If the answer isn’t yes, I say go to Mexico. You’re young, you got a fuck load of bad choices to make, but honestly, I don’t think that would be one of them. Whatever you choose is fine, but you need to make a choice and stick with it.”

“Yeah. I know.”

“Good. Cause, you know, I was inside for drug abuse and theft, nothing violent at least not to others but if you mess him around; I’m probably going to cut you. Not like a full on kidney stabbing, but it will probably leave a scar.”

As she says this, Nicky tongues at her rear molar and raises her eyebrows challengingly at the redhead.

Ian pooches out his lower lip, nodding without complaint. It’s been a while since he has been around people outside of his family who talk like this, and actually it is like a breath of fresh air to him. He thought he’d moved on and maybe even become a little more sophisticated than this but perhaps not. Perhaps he never really even wanted to.

“Fair enough.”

“Meeting new people is always so fun, huh?”

“Oh yeah, it’s a delight.”

Nicky laughs and smiles at him.

“Fuck it. I’ll cut you if I have to, but you’re alright, Red.”

*

[omgpourquoi]

Oh Gosh, and Into You Nursey/Dex fic? Yes please.

Can’t Be Happening: The Playlist Fics

(( I could write so many different versions of this. It was almost a truth or dare/spin the bottle/gay chicken scenario guys. If someone wants to send this song again, I can do another lol…but here have a cliche “in the closet” together fic.))

Song: Into You by Ariana Grande

Dex isn’t really sure how he ended up pressed into the back of the Haus closet with all 200 lbs of sexy hockey player pressed against him, but he isn’t complaining.

Well, only a little.

“Nursey, why can’t we just go back out there?” Dex asked, letting exasperation leak into his voice.

“Shhhh!” Nursey reached his hand up, presumably to put over Dex’s mouth, but it landed north, near his eyes.

“Ow.”

It had been a normal post-win kegster. It was, like, midnight and Dex hadn’t even seen Nursey since the game, until Nursey grabbed his arm with wide eyes and dragged him into the closet. Dex thought about making a joke about being “in the closet”, but he figured it might be a little too revealing for the situation. And so he didn’t move— literally or figuratively.

He tried not to think that with the door closed there wasn’t any room. Which meant that body he felt pressed against him was Nursey’s. And the smell of coffee and cologne paired with the breath that was tickling his ear were also Nursey’s. Dex closed his eyes, even though it was too dark to see. He was too into Nursey to be locked in a dark closet with him. Life was cruel.

“What?”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You were mumbling.”

Dex felt the blush as it spread on his cheeks. He changed his mind; Maybe the darkness was his friend.

Dex gritted his teeth, trying to push but Nursey didn’t move. “Nursey. Why are we here?”

“I—“

And for the first time in his life, Nursey seemed speechless.

“Nursey.”

Nursey sighed.

“ImayhavetoldToddfromthebasketballteamthatyou’remyboyfriendbutthenhewantedtotalktoyouaboutit,” Nursey’s voice was low and fast, but he was right there. Despite this, Dex still thinks he might have heard wrong.

“What….the fuck,” he settles on, trying to rearrange his arm from where it was pinned behind him. There was nowhere for it to go, besides over Nursey’s shoulder. Nursey let it happen without comment.

“So, you dragged me into our linens closet?” Dex asked, trying to connect the dots.

“So, I’m saving you the awkward story and interaction.”

“Oooookay,” Dex paused. “I can just go out there and tell him that you are my boyfriend.”

Nursey made a sound eerily similar to the one he makes when taking a hit on the ice.

“I mean,” Dex backtracked frantically. “You told him first so…”

“I…you’re straight?” Nursey phrased the statement like a question.

Dex struggled to find the right words to explain that no, he wasn’t straight. But either way, it didn’t matter, Nurse just needed a fake boyfriend.

“Dex, he’s bi. And like, I think he’s poly and he asked me if we were monogamous and I panicked because I realized he was gonna try and flirt with you.”

“Oh.” Dex still felt like having a hot basketball player flirt with him wouldn’t have been a bad thing, per se. But he was a monogamous kinda guy because — as he’d learned by watching people flirt with Nurse — he was the jealous type.

There’s a pause and a shift as Nursey rearranged himself, a hand lands on Dex’s waist. Dex tried not to jump at the tingling feeling the touch leaves.

He’s just getting comfortable, Poindexter. Don’t freak you’re d-man out by projecting your own feelings.

Something else was bothering Dex, besides the bucket handle pressed into his calf.

“So…why did you pick me?”

“Huh?”

“Nursey, Bitty is openly gay. Lardo is literally right there. You had so many options, bro. We all got your back.”

Nursey pulls back, his head knocking lightly on the door.  Dex can feel each breath on his nose.

“Dude, you don’t know?”

“Know, what?” Dex knew it sounded out defensive, but it was a natural reaction for him.

“Okay, I’m going to try and kiss you now because I literally. I can't wait anymore,” Nursey sounded annoyed.

Dex felt like he was on the edge of a cliff that he wouldn’t mind leaping off of. But, God, if Nursey was just fucking around—

No, Nursey was a lot of things but insensitive he was not. Dex heard Nursey shift, pressing closer but he didn’t connect their lips.

“Nursey?” Dex whispered, lips tingling with anticipation. This is what he’s been waiting for and, surely, he hadn’t been hearing things when Nursey—

“This is where you let me down easy, Will,” Nursey whispered back, softly, oh so softly.

Dex knew that this closeness was something that might could come back from. But once he leaned forward, he would be crossing a line.

Dex tightened wrapped his arm further around Nursey, his hand landing on the soft skin of his neck. Dex finally pushed forward past the last tiny space to connect their lips.

He and Nursey were always better with the physical than with words. It was like a dance, like the connection on the ice, but instead of connecting the puck they were locking lips again and again and again. Dex felt like his chest was going to burst.

They finally pulled away to catch their breath. It felt almost as intimate to Dex, the hot air from Nursey’s lungs blowing on his cheek.

Nursey cleared his throat softly. “I was pretty sure you were straight, but like, we’ve been sort of flirting??? You should know that I’ve literally been waiting for you to make a move. But you didn’t so,” Nursey pulled back, resting his head on the door again. “I did.”

“Because I thought you were straight,” Dex argued.

“Ah, there’s those heteronormative assumptions, out to ruin our lives.”

Dex felt Nursey hand move, stumble around and then land on his own.

“So, Nurse,” Dex started, still buzzing from the kiss, “Does this mean we can get out of here? And go to McDonald’s or something?”

It wasn’t much for a first date, but Dex wanted to kiss him again. And be able to see Nursey when he did.

“Sounds like a plan. But, I dunno, this is pretty scandalous. What, are we just going walk out of here like it’s normal?” Nursey asked.

Dex sighed. “Nurse, everyone’s drunk. I don’t think everyone’s watching and waiting for us to come out of the closet.”

Nursey burst out laughing. Dex rolled his eyes, but he smiled against Nursey’s cheek.

“Alright, Poindexter, were just gonna make a run for it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

The doorknob turned and Nursey stepped back, pulling Dex by his hand. They’re out of the Haus and halfway to his car before Dex pulled him around to kiss him again.

The Rules™ 1. You send me a song from this playlist and I write a Nurseydex ficlet about a word, lyric, feeling, etc 2. You can also suggest songs that you think should be on the playlist. I’ll add it if I like it and write the fic. 3. I can’t write that they’re just singing the song more than let’s say…three times? Bc that’s just cheating.4. Y'all can send suggestions with the songs but it’s okay if I don’t use them. I most likely will though

Other stuff:- Probably won’t get super smutty just cause people I know might see it? But also some of these songs are saucy™ so maybe?- Generally, I don’t do AUs. Not my cup of tea most of the time. But again, some of those songs super lend to it so, no promises either way!

Find the rest under the tag “the playlist fics”

[lexxicona]

I feel very called out.

I am fully aware that this is a ME problem and not anyone’s fault.

There’s some kind of much deeper post about the assumption when you ship two characters that they’re going to have a very heteronormative idea of a successful relationship (marriage, kids, happily ever after) and how that often bleeds into comments on “why would you ship x” imo